


I, Syndor [Abandoned]

by Mockingjay468



Series: Aliit Ori'shya Tal'din {Family is More Than Bloodline} [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Ahsoka Tano Didn't Leave the Jedi Order, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Canon Divergence - Order 66, Clones, Force Bond (Star Wars), Freeform, Good Barriss Offee, Handmaidens, Not Beta Read, Other Force Orders, Other Knights of the Old Republic Characters Mentioned, Padmé Amidala Lives, Satine Kryze Lives, Swearing, Taking Canon And Legends And Disregarding It Completely, The Jedi Order, the Jedi Temple
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2020-12-13 20:57:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mockingjay468/pseuds/Mockingjay468
Summary: Right took out her Comm Unit nervously.“Um…sir. There’s someone here I think you might want to meet.” She said, not looking away from me. I smiled back.“Who?” A voice snapped back.“She says that she is a part of the Mandalorian Secret Police.”“And a Shadow Sage.” Right cut in.“And a Shadow Sage.” Left agreed.+++++Syndor Ferra is a young woman stuck on Naboo during the blockade.She is also a member of the Shadow Sage, a group of Force Sensitives living in the outer rim under Mandalorian protection; part of the Mandalorian Secret Police, one of about 500 Matukai who hold a similar position; and personally hated by both the Duchess of all of Mandalorian Empire, Satine Kryze, and her sister, the Outcast and second-in-command of the terrorist group Death Watch, Bo-Katan.She takes the situation in her stride, and is soon a part of something much bigger than her.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! This is my first proper story. Hope you enjoy!  
(Translations at the bottom).

The Conclave was going to kill someone-probably me, but my cousin was a high contender.

Dejo had come down with the ‘flu that had been going around the town, and Maiya had smiled sweetly at me in an attempt to get me to take xir place aboard the ship until xe was better, and I had relented, admittedly quite bored as the entire Conclave of Elders had been resisting sending me on missions since my injury 3 years ago.

The first 6 months had been spent mainly hiding in my bedroom, until Toni, with the disappointed expression Healers apparently learnt during their training, had dragged me out, reminding me that it was essential to keep up muscle mass and practise with my new balance if I wanted to be able to get reassigned as quickly as possible.

A year and a half later, I had been cleared by the Healers for field work, but the Conclave, in their infinite wisdom, didn’t think that was enough.

So it had been a relief when they agreed I could go with Mai and her crew to do the shipment.

Although, the Conclave probably wouldn’t have guessed that Naboo, one of the most peaceful planets in the entire galaxy would get invaded in the two days we made landfall.

“So, what do we do?” I asked, strapping my armour on, keeping an eye on the ships hovering like moons in the early morning sky.

“Why’re you asking me? You’re the one who spent so much time with the Jedi and the Duchess during the Civil War.” Maiya retorted.

It was just us on the ship-Daior had gone on a long walk as she liked to do early in the morning; and Flesse and Nini had gone off to stock up on non-perishable supplies. Not just for us, but also anyone who desperately needed it. The poor never came off well in a crisis.

“Yeah, but you’re the leader of the mission.”

“Cut the shit Syn.”

I checked that all my armour, which was rarely worn in public now, was on securely, before answering. “Sure. You stay here. Stock up on all you can. I’ll go to the Palace and offer my services.” I fished a small bit of flimsi out of one of the pouches on my belt. “Call this Comm Frequency. Tell them that you’re Syndor Lotus’ cousin, and that you’d like to talk to the Jedi Council. He should get you that line without question.”

“And if he does question?”

“Tell him my middle name.”

Maiya rose an eyebrow at this but didn’t question it. “And what do I tell the Jedi Council?”

I bit my lip. “Don’t tell them anything. Just send them pictures of the blockade.”

She nodded. “Will do. _Re'turcye mhi, __Werd'ika_.”

I growled at the use of the nickname I hated, but returned the farewell, before stepping out of the ship.

The docks were crowded and I tuned into some of the gossip as I made my way slowly through crowds.

“…said that it was a strategic, galaxy-wide thing…”

“…Federation is the one blockading. Apparently, the Queen…”

“…it’s the new Queen’s fault-she’s the one who…”

“…stock up. If this goes on much longer…”

Most conversation I overheard seemed to be on this vein, although few people seemed overly concerned.

It must be nice to come from a planet where war is not an imminent thing.

Few people took much notice of me, as I had a cloak covering up most of my armour and a bag with my helmet and gun in-not to mention the helpful ability to appear like nothing more than a shadow to the untrained eye- so it was fairly easy to slip through the streets unseen.

Getting into the palace was another story.

I couldn’t sneak in because that would look sketchy, and it was highly unlikely the guards would just let me in.

But, it was the best opportunity I had.

So I walked up to the two guards at the palace entrance.

“Good afternoon gentlemen.” I said genially. “I was wondering if I could have a meeting with the Queen.”

The guard on the left actually had the indecency to laugh at that.

I shrugged. “Could I at least talk to your superior officer?”

“Sure. It’s not like the entirety of this palace is having a crisis.” The guard on the right said, and I smiled.

“I know. I was hoping to help with that.”

“And you would be?” Left asked, leaning back against the gate.

“Syndor Lotus of House Ferra, Shadow Sage and member of the MSP.”

The change in their demeanour was almost instant. They both straightened up and gave each other the look I associated with fear that wasn’t outright terror-more confusion.

Right took out her Comm Unit nervously.

“Um…sir. There’s someone here I think you might want to meet.” She said, not looking away from me. I smiled back.

“Who?” A voice snapped back.

“She says that she is a part of the Mandalorian Secret Police.”

“And a Shadow Sage.” Right cut in.

“And a Shadow Sage.” Left agreed.

There was a pause, before-

“I’ll be right there.” And you could practically hear blood draining from his face.

Left turned her Comm off before standing up straight. “He’ll be here in a few minutes.”

“So,” I started, “you know my name, what are yours?”

There was a moment of silence before Right decided he liked me. “Maris. Maris Hentlie.”

After another nervous look towards me, Left also answered. “Hilleré Kotra.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” I said, and we fell into silence, before the small door in the main gate opens, revealing a man in uniform and a hard glint in his eyes.

“Good afternoon, I’m Syndor Lotus-”

“I don’t care who you are.”

I took a deep breath in as I realised that I was in for the long haul.

“I do care why you think you can just turn up here, uninvited.”

“Well I didn’t mean to end up stuck here, did I?” I shot back. “My cousin and I were only here to drop off some cargo. I came here to offer any help I can. I know you’re a peaceful planet, but I know a lot about distribution of goods and rationing if it comes to that. And knowing the Trade Federation, it will.”

“We don’t need your help.” He said, throat bobbing slightly as he looked at me down his nose.

I shrugged. “If you feel that way-but you’re a small, mid-rim planet with little influence within the Senate. Mark my words when I say you’ll struggle.”

I stared back until I realised that he wasn’t about to turn away.

“If you need my help, our ship is docked in the Southern Docks, Hangar 5-you can’t miss it.”

And with that, I turned around and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mando'a:**  
_Re'turcye mhi, Werd'ika._ \- Goodbye, Little Shadow.


	2. Chapter 2

“Why do you think we exist?” Nini asked, staring into her tea thoughtfully.

I groaned, letting my head fall down to bang against the table top.

“No! Please not existential questions. Not today!”

Two month was much too long to be as inactive as I had been-even with a morning walk, midday training in a field in the outskirts of Theed, and an evening run. If I was stuck here for much longer, particularly stuck with Nini, who, when bored, liked asking questions about the meaning of life, which I tried to avoid if possible.

“Syndor!” Daior called from down below. “There’s someone here to see you. Says their name is Maris?”

I perked up at this news, and after making sure that Nini was not about to decide life was pointless, I jumped down from the galley into the belly of the ship, and out towards Maintenance, Daior’s little nest of sorts.

“Hello Maris. Fancy seeing you here?”

He grinned at me, and I grinned back. “Your Boss change his mind?”

“Yep. Well,” he corrected himself, “not exactly.”

He started walking, and I followed, linking an arm through his. “What do you mean ‘not exactly’?”

He grimaced slightly. “He doesn’t want your help with anything to do with the Blockade-”

“Because they’ve got _that_ under control.” I muttered, thinking back to the slums the other day, where I had helped Flesse and Nini hand out tinned food to the skeletal families.

“Yeah-but he does want your help with training the new Queen’s Handmaidens. Apparently, they’ve been falling behind in their training with him.”

“Why’d you think that is? Surely they’ve been picked for their skill?”

“Hilleré says she overheard the Handmaidens complain about the long hours while she was giving them their schedules. She thinks they’re just much too tired.”

“Hm.”

We walked the rest of the way to the palace in silence, and we were greeted at the gate by…

“What’s his name?” I hissed at Maris as we came up to him.

“Quarsh Panaka.” He whispered back.

“Good Morning Miss Lotus. If you would come with me.”

I did.

“So, what do you want me to do?” I asked. “I’m trained in a lot of things.”

“As it is very possible the Trade Federation could invade, I was wondering if you take over the training of the Handmaidens.”

I nodded. “Of course. How many are there?”

“Twenty.”

“And they all need training?”

He nodded. “Of course.” He swept onwards, and I followed in his wake, taking a moment to examine my surroundings.

The halls were clearly old, but beautiful. I took time to admire them as we walked, before hurrying to catch up as I realised Panaka had gotten ahead and was now standing in an open doorway, looking at me with a disappointed look that could never have rivalled Toni’s.

I skidded artfully to a stop right next to him and hummed in approval at the room. “Nice. For a peaceful planet you really do have good training facilities.” I wasn’t lying-the place was dreamlike with everything from climbing ropes to practice blasters.

“Everyone who works in guarding the Queen trains here. The Handmaidens have 2 hours everyday at 8 till 10 in the evening once the Queen has retired.” Panaka said, brisk and for a moment I could see stress in his eyes and face and felt kind of sorry for him. He nodded to me, and produced a thick wad of folders from a messenger bag that hung off his shoulder. “Here are their folders. If you wait here, they’ll arrive in about half an hour.”

And then he was off, leaving me with a fuck ton of questions.

Like, what exactly did he want from me?

I decided that I should go inside as it would look a lot less suspicious and it wasn’t like Panaka had given me ID or anything, so I’d probably end up getting kicked out if someone suspected something. I took a seat against the wall, with all of the windows and the door within my sight, and began to read through the files I had been given.

I was only half way through by the time the first of the young women came into the room, and I made a split second decision to just train the ones I had gone through today.

I still wasn’t entirely sure what we were going to do, but I made a mental list of the ten folders I had read and realised that as the 6 main Handmaidens to the Queen and the four who were meant to be her guards, it would be quite a good start. The other ten were not so important for her security, more her other needs and requirements.

Once the chrono embedded in the right vambrace beeped at me to signal 8 PM, I stood up, frightening one of the girls who hadn’t seen me.

“Good Evening.” I said genially, calling there attention onto me.

“Are you the trainer Captain Panaka was talking about?” One of the shorter handmaidens asked, a hand on her hip.

“That would be me. To begin with, I would like to say that I don’t believe everyone has to be here every session. I have split you into two depending upon your roles with the ranks of Handmaidenship,” A small twist of the truth, “and this will mean you can have 2 hours every other day of free time, which I hear you don’t have much of.”

There was a small murmur until a particularly timid looking girl piped up. “But I thought Panaka wanted us here every day.”

“Panaka is no longer your teacher. Today I would like Sabé, Rabé, Saché, Eirtaé, Yané, Juné, Haddié, Lucé, Padmé and Berrieré to stay, and tomorrow I would like to see the rest of you please.”

The crowd in front of me thinned and as I stripped off my armour, I explained my plan.

“So, I’m going to do what I do with the Trainees at home and I would like to have a short hand-to-hand spar with each of you and see what we need to work on.”

The girls in front of me murmured something that sounded like assent before the girl who had determined my identity stepped forward.

“What are you planning on doing after we’ve done hand-to-hand?”

I blinked. “I’ll…tell you when we get there.” The girl didn’t look very sure, so I pressed on. “And you would be?” I asked.

“Padmé Naberrie. Senior Handmaiden.”

“You’re up first then.” I said, gesturing towards the others to stand back and walking towards the centre of the room. I looked back and Padmé walked forward to join me, falling into an actually quite reasonable fighting stance.

I smiled and surged forward on the attack.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually got round to writing this chapter!  
Yay!  
Translations at bottom.

All in all, the first session went quite well, considering I had no plan of what to do whatsoever.

Overall, the Handmaidens were very proficient in hand-to-hand, just needed a bit less hesitancy in most cases. It was slightly frustrating that I had to teach such a big group-on Arda I had been teaching groups of four at most so I could give enough attention to each of the students.

But, I managed to get through each of them before an hour was up, and after that I paired them up and showed them a few simple techniques for disarming and distracting before the two hours were up and they were dismissed.

As I walked back, I made a few quick notes on what I’d seen in my diary, a battered datapad I had been given on my 8th birthday by _Ba’vodu_ Jorgie.

The guards, Juné, Haddié, Lucé and Berrieré, were very good, which was to be expected. But Juné was definitely favouring her right side, and Haddié had admitted to me that she preferred blasters to hand-to-hand combat, and needed more practise.

As for the Senior Handmaidens, they were proficient enough, but with a bit more practise would gain more confidence.

I smiled, feeling rather pleased with myself, punching the code to get into the ship and walking into the ship.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Daior asked through a mouth of something that looked like screws, so it sounded more like, “Wts gt yn sch gd md?”

“Nothing much! How about you come out of your hole today and come have supper with us?”

“Yeah, that’s a wonderful idea!” Mai agreed, coming out of the galley. “We can have a crew supper and play cards-we haven’t had one of those for so long!”

An hour later, Flesse and Mai were the only ones left-Daior had left to make some food; I had stepped away a few rounds in; and Nini had been cleared out the round before.

“Tell us what happened at the Palace!” Flesse said as he leaned back. Mai nodded as she scooped the money she had won into the bag she kept on her at all times.

“Yes do!”

I shrugged. “Not much to tell-Captain Panaka set me to teach the Handmaidens, and those I taught aren’t too bad actually.”

Mai scowled. “He got you teaching, not helping arrange security or rations or literally anything else? It’s clear they don’t have to do _this_ often.”

I returned her dark look, as if to say that I agreed wholly with her.

At that moment, Daior came in and set down bowls of…something, and the conversation quickly changed.

“What is this?” Nini asked incredulously, poking the sludge in her bowl with her spoon.

“The reason why you, _Cyar’ika_, cook.” Flesse said, making a face.

“Which I’m going to do now.”

Nini slipped out from her place on the bench and walked out to the cupboard masquerading as a kitchen, patting Daior’s elbow comfortingly as she went.

I took a tentative bite, and promptly spat it back out. “I’m sorry Daior, but this is uneatable.”

“Unpalatable.”

Daior sighed, and gathered the bowls up again.

“It is safe to say that you aren’t cooking again.” Mai said, helping her scrape the stuff that could not be described as food on any planet into the disposal unit. “Stick to your nest-you’re much better there.”

Daior slumped next to me and I gave a soft smile. “I’m not much better to be honest.”

She shrugged, and the room lapsed into a silence, broken only when Nini came in with a large pasta dish she had kept frozen.

Afterwards, I excused myself as Daior asked for cooking tips from Nini, and Flesse and Mai got into a fight about…something about trees that I didn’t want to know about because I knew I would get involved, and I wanted to get a good night of sleep before tomorrow.

I stripped off my armour and contemplated getting into nightclothes, deciding against it, just changing into another black body glove, which were surprisingly comfortable. I yawned, making my way towards the ‘fresher, giving my face and hands a quick wash, my cropped hair a once through with the brush, before going back to my small cabin and collapsing on the bed.

I went to turn the light off, but paused, instead taking my comm link off the small table. I pushed myself up, brow crunched in confusion at the notice saying that I had ‘1 New Message’.

Leaning against the wall, with my legs crossed, I pressed play.

I jerked slightly at the young man who appeared in hologram form.

Even so small and blue, I could see darkness beneath his eyes, and internally scolded him as I did on the year I was on the run with him, his nice-but-oblivious Master and Satine. His hair was shorter than when I had last seen him, and his padawan braid was back in place-on the run, Toni had expertly hidden his padawan braid within the rest of his hair.

It was almost disconcerting.

He stood perfectly, like the good padawan he was, but the image was destroyed by the way he fiddled nervously with the hem of his slightly-too-long pyjamas.

“Hey. Syndor.” He started, before sighing. “I’m not-I’m not really sure what-it’s just-”

He stopped, huffing in frustration.

“I’m so confused.”

_So am I._ I added silently, reaching out as if I could touch him.

“I wanted to forget you, but I can’t. I almost did-or at least, I pretended I did, but then your cousin called, and I thought it was you, but it wasn’t, and I got all confused again.” He paused again, the recording looking up. “Syndor,” He said in less than a whisper, “I think-I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

And then the message stopped and I was staring at the scuffed metal of the comm, my startling amber eyes and porcelain white face staring back, freckles and thin scars like cracks in an ancient tea cup.

I squeezed my eyes shut-I could deal with one sided love, I dealt with it enough in my youth, but when someone loved me back.

I growled, throwing my comm across the room, to hit Mai in the head as she came in.

Or it would have, if her reflexes weren’t as good as they were.

“What’s happened now?”

“Obi-Wan’s in love with me.” I said, the sound muffled by my hands.

“_Werd’ika_, are you sure he’s not mistaken?”

“I know Obi. He wouldn’t admit to loving someone without seriously having thought over it first. He is seriously devoted to being a Jedi.” I looked up. “And don’t call me that.”

“Cheer up!” Mai said brightly, pushing me onto the bed, placing the comm link on the bedside table and pulling the thin blanket. “You should get some sleep. You have an important day tomorrow!”

“I’m 23, Mai-you don’t need to baby me!” I yelled at her retreating back as she used the Force to turn the light off.

I turned over as the door closed, and curled up into a small ball, and I sighed, falling to sleep only through years of training.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
**Mando'a:**  
_Ba’vodu_ \- Aunt/Uncle (Aunt in the context of the story)  
_Cyar'ika_ \- Sweetheart  
_Werd'ika_ \- Little shadow, used as a term of endearment


	4. Chapter 4

I spent the next four months training the handmaidens and trying to forget about the holocall. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to, more that I didn’t want to deal with the emotions it would bring up-and it wasn’t like I was going to see him again…probably.

The Handmaidens, after an initial, rather cold distance, had warmed-as much as such a close knit group could-to me, and I was included in conversations at the end of sessions more.

I was setting up a training session in the morning when Fé, one of the receptionists, burst into the training room, her curly hair breaking free of her headscarf and her eyes wide with an expression I was all too familiar with-terror.

“Sage Lotus!” She called, as I strode across the room, the knives I was organising forgotten. “It’s happened. The Federation invaded.” The slight shake in her hands increased, and I took them in my own.

“We have a plan for this, don’t we?”

Fé looked unsure, and I looked her directly in the face. Despite her being 13, a decade my junior, I had noticed I was barely a few inches taller, which would usually frustrate me no end, but right now was quite helpful.

“Don’t we?”

She nodded.

“You are an integral part of that plan. We need you to help Greté and Minné to organise the others. Can you do that?”

I felt the shaking fade slightly, and Fé met my eyes. The fear was still there, but it mingled with something else.

“Yes.” She said. “You’ve trained us for this, and I would be betraying myself and this planet if I didn’t do this.”

“Good. Now, what do I need to do?”

“The Queen wants you to take Saché’s place within the ranks of the Handmaidens.”

I rose an eyebrow at this. “Really?”

“She said that if she and Panaka were split up, she wanted an official opinion and also has realised that you have experience in these matter. And Saché is staying to protect the populace in case the Federation does anything unbecoming. They are likely to round up the Handmaidens and they might know if one of us is missing. It is traditional to have 20.”

“And my cousin?” I inquired, stripping off my armoured gloves and any other armour that might show under the Handmaiden clothes that strategically hide most weapons and armour.

“Alla was sent to tell her. She said she was willing to help any resistance if it comes to that.” Fé tucked a curl of her springy hair into her headscarf and stood slightly taller, striding longer, until they reached a long room. “If you give me your bag, I’ll put it on the ship we hope to escape on-it’s the fastest we have. Put this on instead of your armour-I think it’s a bit bulky to hide, even for these clothes, and…Rabé!” Fé shoved clothes into my arms and ran after the other handmaiden. When it looked that she wasn’t coming back, I wandered into the room, and stripped my armour and loose body glove off, throwing the bright orange robes over my head, tucking my hair into the scarf that kept hair from flying loose underneath the hood of the robes.

I took off boots, rubbed the scuffed metal of the feet and pulled on the socks and more delicate boots to hide them again, before carefully piling my things into the bag-putting lots of things in a small satchel a skill you pick up while on the run-and hiding multiple vibroblades and smaller blasters on my person.

While I did this, I went through the plan of the palace I had…found, for lack of a better word, about a month into the blockade, and memorised as I had little else to do. I could always go to the Throne room, but to all the other officials I was no longer me, but a Handmaiden and it would be really strange if I just burst in.

So instead, I pulled the bag onto my shoulder and tapped gently on the wall. Eventually, I stopped and looked around before knocking a small wall lamp aside, revealing one of the secret passages. I smiled. I had thought that that might have worked.

A place this big was sure to have secret passages.

And frankly, it was Naboo, the galactic centre of espionage-although very few knew that. I did, once I had decided to go down the Secret Police route as a career. It was one of the reasons I had said I was part of it at the front gate all those months ago.

The first person I bumped into-quite literally-was Eirtaé.

“Look where you’re go-Sage Lotus?”

“Syndor.” I corrected, adjusting the Handmaiden robes slightly. “I was told that I need to put this bag in the Hangar? And I wasn’t sure where I would be needed after that.”

She stood even straighter, tucked a blond strand of hair into her hood and turned on her heel. “Follow me to the Hangar and I will give you a ten minute rundown of how to be a Royal handmaiden.”

It was intense, and _I_ grew up during a Civil War while being trained to be a member of one of the most highly trained Secret Police in the Galaxy. Thankfully, due to that training, I was able to contain the information dump.

Eirtaé cheerfully finished with a grin, before letting us out of the dimly, candlelit corridor; took my bag and stowing it away in a hidden compartment in the wall; and dragged me towards the Throne Room.

“Right.” She said, before we entered. “Fé gave me a whole load of lists of things for the others to do, and I need you to take them, because I have my own jobs to do.”

Eirtaé shoved the pile of flimsi into my hands and walked off with great speed and a surprising amount of grace.

I sighed, and started on my task.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
I have returned from my flu and Christmas with a slightly longer chapter than usual!  
I have also seen the new Star Wars film. It has made my mind blow and I have had so many ideas for later in the story, so that's good, I suppose!  
(Mando'a translations at the bottom)

> _The forest was dark. Both moons were new-a rare phenomenon-casting no light on the land below. The undergrowth was murky, so you could barely see the girl lying as still as she was. Her porcelain white skin was covered by cloth and armour, and a helmet hid her golden eyes; her short, black hair; and her black-painted lips, turned up in a cocksure grin. _
> 
> _There was a slight rustle, like a small forest creature had run into its burrow, and another in similar armour was suddenly next to her. Both girls were in loose body gloves, which were a shade of black that matched their armour. Indistinguishable apart from the thin lines nearly touching the edges of each piece of armour, gold and blue respectively, to match their eyes._
> 
> _“My turn for watch Werd’ika. Just a warning-that di’kut Gret is fooling around with his bes’bev, and if he’s not careful, the camp’ll be found.”_
> 
> _“He could get a Court Marshall then.” Syndor pointed out, silently dismantling her gun, so her cousin could put hers in place._
> 
> _Mai groaned quietly. “Of course he won’t. You know that-his buir is too important. My buir is important too, but you don’t see me using that.”_
> 
> _“That’s because your buir has used all her favours getting your vode out of jail.” Syndor replied, wiggling away. “Re’turcye mhi.”_
> 
> _Syndor slipped through the shadowy forest, and just before reaching the camp she and a few other young Mando’ad had set up a few nights ago, she tripped._
> 
> _Tripping in itself was strange for Syndor, who had trained her entire life to be the perfect warrior, and she had tripped over nothing, which was even weirder. Syndor squinted at the ground and sent out feelers in the Force, and came across one of the most intense Force suggestions she had ever seen._
> 
> _‘Turn away.’ It yelled. ‘There’s nothing here.’_
> 
> _With equal Force, Syndor yelled back, denying it, until lo and behold, a figure slowly appeared on the floor. Syndor eased him onto his back and winced at the sight that had been hidden by the Force and a rough cloak. _
> 
> _Syndor was no medical expert, but even she knew that that was not the sort of wound someone should be trying to sleep off._
> 
> +++++
> 
> _Toneri was only a few years older than Syndor, and looked very similar, although her hair was blonde and eyes blue, and was Syndor’s closest friend. _
> 
> _So when the young man she found on the forest floor, nearly a month ago, woke up in a state that is more lucid than when he had previously woken up, Syndor was the second person Toneri called-after the Conclave, of course._
> 
> _He was very pale when Syndor was allowed in, and his ginger hair and freckles were more pronounced than they likely would have been otherwise. She had been given strict instructions not to interrogate him by her buir, the conclave and Toni, but she wanted to meet him, face to face._
> 
> _“Hi.” She said. “I’m Syndor, the one who found you.”_
> 
> _He narrowed his eyes slightly, and Syndor frowned inside, even as she kept a pleasant smile on her face. “I’m Obi-Wan.” He said eventually, and Syndor took this as an opportunity to take a seat._
> 
> _“You alright?”_
> 
> _“Ask your sister.”_
> 
> _“She’s actually my cousin.”_
> 
> _“She talks about you like a sister.”_
> 
> _“Seyr, la olyay va.”_
> 
> _"No need to get defensive." He muttered, and _ _Syndor looked up, confused._
> 
> _“You speak Mando’a?” _
> 
> _“I speak many languages.”_
> 
> _Which wasn’t, Syndor supposed, as cryptic as it could have been._
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“So, we’re not an Order like yours. We have a base, and anyone can come and learn. Most go their own ways: many of us join the Mandalorian Secret Police, which I intend to do-being a Shadow Sage gives you quite a good resume-but some choose to go back to their old jobs. The few who stay at base all the time have their own jobs and take orders from the Conclave.”_
> 
> _“The people who talked to me when I first woke up?” Obi-Wan asked, and Syndor nodded._
> 
> _“Yeah. They have a few, main goals, which we got from our original founder.”_
> 
> _“Who was that?”_
> 
> _Syndor shrugged. “A woman-could have been called Sita Karo; my ancestor, who I was named after-Syndor Ordo; and I even got it that Darth Revan is a possibility.”_
> 
> _“Your Order could have been founded by Darth Revan?”_
> 
> _“And my research says that is the most likely of the three.”_
> 
> _Obi-Wan snorted in laughter, and then gasped in pain._
> 
> _“You OK?” Syndor asked, and he nodded slightly his face screwed up. He relaxed slightly, and smiled, even though it was slightly strained. “You gonna tell me why you laughed?”_
> 
> _“You do research on things?” He asked, and I put on my best affronted look. _
> 
> _“I have hobbies.”_
> 
> _“I know, I just never thought those hobbies would be so not like what I thought.”_
> 
> _“You know,” I said, wiping away a fake tear, “I thought we were becoming friends. Apparently I was wrong. Even you take me for nothing more than a very skilled and beautiful mercenary.”_
> 
> _“I’m very sorry Syndor.” Obi-Wan said, his voice tinged with annoyance you couldn’t see on his grinning face. “Now, will you go back to explaining the Shadow Sages?”_
> 
> _“That’s pretty much it.” Syndor admitted. “Unless you want me to go into the monetary gains and losses of the base?”_
> 
> _“No, that’s OK. But I suppose I should return the favour.”_
> 
> _“Please, I’ve always been curious about the Jedi Order.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“Look,” Syndor started, ducking down, shooting three shots that all met their targets and rolling behind a downed speeder, “I’m just saying that you’ve been with us for the last 6 months, fighting our cause for the last 3-it wouldn’t change anything when you do go back to Coruscant.”_
> 
> _“Which I only haven’t done because at first, I was injured and then this planet was blockaded because Death Watch hate the Shadows and everything they stand for. I’m not helping because I want to, but because I would like to be able to get back home, and I won’t do that with Death Watch in charge.”_
> 
> _With that, he flipped over his shelter, and dispatched the last three Death Watch with expert hits with his lightsaber._
> 
> _“Well, it’s nice to know you care so much.”_
> 
> _He glared at her in answer, and Syndor smiled back._
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“You could have just said.” _
> 
> _Obi-Wan shrugged. “It’s been 6 months. The Jedi Council had probably declared me dead a long time ago.”_
> 
> _“Still, we have a plan to break into the comm tower and break the radio silence. We can send a message to the Jedi Council.” Syndor said. “The Jedi is your entire life, I’m not about to change that, not if I can help it.”_
> 
> _He smiled. “You know, your offer was really thoughtful.”_
> 
> _“But not quite right.” I finished. “Yet.”_
> 
> _“That isn’t remotely concerning.”_
> 
> _Syndor matched his smile, before standing up from the ground she had sat them down on after the battle, when she decided to find out why Obi-Wan was being so stubborn and annoyed. It frustrated her that she hadn’t thought about the possibility that he was missing home-Arda was home to her, and it was easy to forget it wasn’t everyone’s._
> 
> _“I’m going to go talk to the Conclave about that. You coming?” _
> 
> _Obi-Wan nodded and accepted her hand to help stand up._
> 
> _“Now that I think about it, you never did say how you got planet bound during a blockade.”_
> 
> _“I don’t know myself. I can’t remember up to a few weeks before I woke up in Toni’s Medical Room.”_
> 
> _“Oh.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“It was an honour to fight by your side.” Syndor said, bowing to her friend._
> 
> _“It was an honour to fight by yours.” Obi-Wan replied and Syndor could feel him startle in the Force as she rushed forward to embrace him. _
> 
> _“Safe flying.” She mumbled, as he walked onto the ship with a wave over his shoulder._
> 
> _“You’re going to miss him, aren’t you?” _
> 
> _Syndor involuntarily blushed. “No.” _
> 
> _The nudge she was given was enough to know that Mai didn’t believe her._
> 
> +++++
> 
> _ “You came!” Syndor exclaimed, grabbing Obi-Wan’s hands excitedly._
> 
> _“You invited me.” He offered in return, smiling back at her, looking about as uncomfortable in trousers and shirt as Syndor felt in her dress. _
> 
> _“I needed a fake date, and last time I went with one of my cousins.” Syndor made a face. “It ended up with me throwing food at his face, and since then I have been banned at doing missions with my family.”_
> 
> _“Why not ask another of your friends in the MSP?”_
> 
> _Syndor deadpanned. “I have no other friends.” She said._
> 
> _“That’s so sad.” H_ _e gave me a side grin. "And probably wrong."_
> 
> _Syndor laughed. “Come on. We have to get there so I can eavesdrop on conversations between a spice dealer and his customer.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“You what!?” Syndor exclaimed, nearly dropping the blaster she was cleaning. The Duchess stared back completely calmly. _
> 
> _“I asked for Jedi help. And there they are.” _
> 
> _Syndor was still gaping as the ship landed. “…why?” She whispered in disbelief, but brightened considerably as she saw exactly which Jedi had come._
> 
> _“Ob’ika!” She called, running up the entry ramp and literally throwing herself at him. “I haven’t seen you for ages!” She looked over his shoulder to see someone else. “Olyay meg gar buir?”_
> 
> _He rolled his eyes. “Nayc, kaysh olyay ner e'lyreilyr. Gar kar'taylir ibac yaihi'l pirusti, Synd'ika.”_
> 
> _“Sure.” _
> 
> _“You,” he said, “are insufferable.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“Oh, so when _Satine_ offers to make you officially Mandalorian you’ll take it, but when we do it…” Syndor said, aggressively sharpening __her vibroknife._
> 
> +++++
> 
> _The world was bathed in a soft, orange glow as the sun set, reflecting off the white desert surrounding the Sundari dome. _
> 
> _It was made all the more beautiful, Syndor thought, with Obi-Wan here._
> 
> _She sighed happily and lent into his shoulder._
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“Sandstorm. They can’t come back for a while.” Obi-Wan pointed out._
> 
> _“I’m sure they’re fine.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _A pyre burnt. Syndor squeezed Obi-Wan’s hand comfortingly._
> 
> _“It’ll be alright.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“Anakin! Put that down. Back me up Syndor!”_
> 
> _“I think it’s quite funny, actually.”_
> 
> _“I hate you.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“Syndor!”_
> 
> _“I’m fine! Keep going!”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“They're so small.” Obi-Wan whispered._
> 
> _“Yes he is.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“We came to rescue you.”_
> 
> _“Great job you’re doing.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“I can’t believe the Ancients worshipped war.”_
> 
> _Obi-Wan was silent._
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“The Jedi are gone.” Obi-Wan said, his voice hoarse._
> 
> _“Not yet.”_
> 
> +++++
> 
> _“Ner verd’ika, you have more than one Grandparent. Let me tell you about the ones that mattered.”_
> 
> _“Please.” A younger, unknown voice pleaded. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”_
> 
> _“You are young. Wilful. And it was important that you knew you most important heritage first. The one you wanted to follow. And I made a blood oath to protect you. And I will do that for the rest of my days, ner verd’ika.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mando'a:<\b>  
_Werd'ika<\i> - Little Shadow (term of endearment)  
_di’kut<\i> - a foolish, idiotic, useless individual (severe); context-dependent:can mean jerk, moron, idiot, etc. (sometimes vulgar)  
_bes’bev<\i> - Mandalorian wind instrument also used in combat  
_buir<\i> - mother/father  
_vode<\i> - brothers, sisters, comrades  
_Re’turcye mhi.<\i> - goodbye  
_Mando’ad<\i> - Mandalorian (lit: Son/Daughter/Child of Mandalore)  
_Seyr, la olyay va.<\i> - Well, she isn't.  
_Ob’ika<\i> - 'ika added into a name makes it a term of endearment  
_Olyay meg gar buir?<\i> - Is that your Father?  
_Nayc, kaysh olyay ner e'lyreilyr. Gar kar'taylir ibac yaihi'l pirusti, Synd'ika.<\i> - No, he's my master. You know that full well, Synd'ika. (Synd'ika is a term of endearment)  
_Ner verd’ika<\i> - My little warrior____________**


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Yay!  
Note-I have edited a few of the past chapters so that the Matukai are actually called the Shadow Sages, because I relally needed a more original name for them.

I woke up with a start, sitting up suddenly in bed, and looked around at the sleeping forms of Rabé, Sabé, Eirtaé and Padmé. I took a moment to collect myself, and remind myself that I wasn’t in a warzone and I was as safe as I could be in the ship in hyperspace.

Sabé blinked herself awake and looked blearily at me. “Hmm…waz wrong?” She mumbled, and I tried to smile comfortingly, but even to me, it felt strained.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, but she lay back down, and when her breathing appeared to have settled, I slipped myself out from underneath the blanket. The ship was cold-a downside of space travel was that, despite the heating systems, there was always a slight chill in the air-but I ignored it, and slipped out of the room into the corridor.

It was even colder here, and I started to regret my decision to not put on a jumper over my pyjamas but I carried on regardless. During the Civil War, I had had many sleepless nights and wandering had been a favourite habit of mine. I had discovered many things on these midnight wanders-places to meditate and interesting people and stories.

My legs carried me on towards the galley, and I set about making myself a cup of caf, having already decided it was unlikely that I was going back to sleep. I sat at the table, sitting cross-legged in an attempt to hide my feet from any passing Nubians, and sipped at a mug of caf.

This plan was good, until I realised there was only one door as Obi-Wan Kenobi walked through it. We stared at each other for an uncomfortably long time, before Obi-Wan smiled awkwardly.

“I-” He paused and coughed, as his voice went up too high and I would probably have rose an eyebrow if I hadn’t been feeling like so trapped. “I see _you’re_ here.”

“That…that I am.”

We continued to stare at each other for a while, until I vaguely gesticulated at the pot of caf. “You want some?”

“Yep. That would be nice.”

He sat gingerly down opposite me and I poured him a cup of caf.

There was silence until we both started speaking at the same time.

“You first.” I said, and Obi-Wan took a deep breath and looked into his caf.

“I should apologise. I shouldn’t have called you. I’ve been thinking about it, and it wasn’t fair on you or me, and for that I’m sorry.” The grip on his mug tightened and I nodded.

“It’s alright. Should we put that behind us?”

Obi-Wan nodded, and we grinned at each other.

“So, how have you been? I would have visited but…” I gestured randomly at my feet. “-and the Conclave refused to let me off planet for ages after I’d been cleared by the medics. Going to Naboo with Mai and her crew was the first time off Arda, and then we got trapped by the blockade, which did not help my desperate need to _do_ things after such a long period of inactivity. Not that I would have had anything to do, if I had been allowed.” I added.

“Why’s that?” Obi-Wan asked. “I would have guessed that you would be up and about training as soon as possible and that the MSP would clear you for active duty.”

“They did. But our _dear_ Duchess has been cutting down on work for us, and is going to undoubtedly abolish it or mix it into the normal police force-and I refuse to be stuck on one planet for the rest of my life. So I’m quitting if I’m not forced to leave.”

“What’ll you do?”

“I’m going to move to Coruscant-my cousin’s a representative for Mandalore and she and her brother invited me to stay with them if it came to it.”

Obi-Wan took his first sip of caf and promptly spat it out. “I forgot you like this.” He said, making a face, and standing up to pour it into the sink and coming to sit back down. “I’ve been thinking recently that you might be right.”

“About what?” I asked curiously, finishing my own caf and pouring myself a new cup.

“About the Jedi needing a change.”

I snorted caf out of my nose while simultaneously choking. “I’m so sorry.” I coughed, attempting to halt the burning in my throat and my nose. “It’s just-I didn’t think you would say that.”

“I’ve lived with you and your crazy family for just over half a year-your beliefs rubbed off on me.” He said dryly, before becoming suddenly more serious. “But I was been thinking about how the Shadow Sages work, and it feels so much better than the Jedi way. They should stop being so hypocritical about relationships-children shouldn’t have to be taken away from their families just to create new ones in the Order, when they could quite easily have both their clans and their Master, as well as the family they were taken from. And they could still look after children like me that were left on the Temple steps full time! It’s not like your Order all fallen to the dark side and gone on killing sprees. And the perception of the dark side we’re given is so small minded-I mean, the Force is so much bigger than we are, but we can’t ever properly study it, in case we diverge from the course the Council wants us to go on.” He paused and I opened my mouth to agree, when he continued. “And it wouldn’t take much-if I hadn’t ended up on Arda, I would likely have never met you or any of the other Shadow Sages and continued on in my narrow minded existence, believing that the only part of the Force worth studying, was this small section that was deemed so thousands of years ago as part of a code that was likely misinterpreted time after time. And don’t even get me started on your theory that the Jedi might be a cult-sure, everyone in it is lovely, but they’re all treading on eggshells so as not to break any of the rules none of them want imposed.”

“Caf?” I asked Padmé, my voice slightly higher than usual as my brain took in the entirety of what Obi-Wan had just said. She was standing, completely shocked in the doorway.

“Um…yes please?”

As I got a mug and Padmé sat down next to my seat on the bench.

“How long have you had _that_ bottled up for?” I asked, sitting back down, and pouring the caf.

When he didn’t answer, I looked up and saw he looked quite shocked at himself. “I’m…I’m not really sure. I don’t actually…I’m not…” He sighed and slumped forward in his chair with a groan, letting his head rest on the tabletop.

“Can I ask you a question, Padawan Kenobi?” Padmé asked politely.

“Obi-Wan, please.” He said, sitting upright and offering her the slightly tired, but heartfelt smile that I had fallen in love with-or not, as I was trying not to think about that. “And of course you can.”

“I have two sisters, and one of them was taken to the Jedi Order when she was younger. I know you probably shouldn’t do this, but could you look her up for me, just to make sure nothing has happened to her? Her name is Gré Naberrie, and she should be about 7 now. If it’s too much trouble, just say-but you sounded so…”

“Incensed? Angry? Mildly insane?”

“Shut up Syndor.”

“So frustrated at the lack of things being done, and I thought…” Padmé continued, ignoring us.

There was a silence and Obi-Wan and I had a short conversation consisted of facial expressions and small hand gestures, before I spoke up. “He can’t, for fear of raising suspicion-it might require some slicing due to the fact that those files are closely guarded due to security issues.” Padmé’s face didn’t fall, and she was a credit to her politics course, but I-and probably Obi-Wan too-felt her emotions dip. “Although, I probably could, if I could get into the archives, or at least the Temple computer core. And with a cousin or two, because my slicing skills are not that good.”

Padmé smiled softly, carefully not betraying the spike of hope she felt, and I grinned back.

“On another note, what are you two doing up?” She asked. I woke up early to get some work done, but you don’t appear to be doing anything like that.”

“I got a Force dream.” I said, and at her look of confusion, explained. “A dream, the Force gives you-you can tell that it’s not a normal dream because you aren’t part of it, it’s like watching a part of your past or future or someone else’s, for that matter.”

“And I wasn’t sleeping anyway.” Obi-Wan said. “I was starting on the report for the council and then I meditated for a bit before I came here for tea and was given this disgusting concoction instead.”

“But, on the subject of work, I do need to-”

“_Syndor…_”

“Did you hear that?” I asked, setting the caf pot down, from where I was pouring my fourth cup.

“Hear what?” Obi-Wan asked, as both he and Padmé stared at me blankly.

I slumped back into my seat. “Oh Force, now I’m hearing things.” I muttered, and Obi-Wan passed me my mug comfortingly, having filled it up for me.

I mumbled a thanks, as Padmé left and returned with a small stack of data pads.

“Did you look through my stuff?” Obi-Wan asked, as she passed him a datapad with the started report for the council on it.

“It was on your bunk.” She said. “If it hadn’t been, I wouldn’t have gone through your private things. I wouldn’t want to risk waking up your master or any of the crew.”

She passed me a datapad. “As you are currently pretending to be one of my handmaidens, and I’m fairly certain Nubian dress and hair is _not_ something you learn in a Mandalorian school, you can help me go through the logs of the ship, to see what we can sell when we get to Tatooine.”

“You’re the Queen?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Fuck. I wasn't meant to let that slip." She buried her head in her hands. "Please don't tell." She mumbled.

“I’m not a snitch.” He mumbled, picking up a stylus and beginning to scribble on the datapad.

“When were these logs made?” I asked. “This does not look like any language I know.”

Padmé stared at me for a while, as if I was stupid before it dawned on her, and she took the pad off me. “Sorry, most at the Palace prefer to read and write in Nubian, but I forgot you weren’t of Naboo origin. Here.” She handed the pad back and it was in-

“Mando’a?”

“It’s one of the most common languages in the galaxy.” She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. And I smiled, before beginning to read.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
New chapter-this is actually the farthest I've ever got on a story, so I'm quite proud of myself.  
Warning-the chapter after this one will be going far back in time to Knights of the Old Republic-or, at least, my version of it, which is very different, so if you plan on playing the game (which I would recommend) and don't want any spoilers, I'll put a warning in chapters which have flashbacks. You shouldn't miss much, story wise.  
Mando'a translations at the bottom.

“You up for chess? I want to teach Hillaré.”

Obi-Wan looked up at me as Hillaré and I slipped onto a bench, opposite him over the table. The handmaidens were nowhere to be seen, likely sitting in the Royal Suite, so as to keep Sabé company, as she took a break from impersonating the queen.

He smiled politely at the pilot in training next to me. “A pleasure to meet you.” He said, tightly, straightening his back slightly. “I could do with a break from the report.”

I grinned, producing a chess board from a compartment in the bench seat next to me.

We played for some time, until I had been beaten thoroughly in all three games we played, and stepped out as Hillaré took my place.

She and Obi-Wan were partway through their game, as Captain Panaka came in.

“Sage Lotus.”

“For the last time, it’s Syndor!” I exclaimed. Panaka ignored me.

“There’s a sandstorm and Padmé and Qui-Gon aren’t back.”

I internally cursed, but was calmed by a gentle push of the Force through a bond I had completely forgotten about. Obi-Wan stood up to face the head of security eye to eye, and bowed his head. “I apologise for forgetting to inform you, but Master Qui-Gon called and they have found shelter with some of the locals.”

He retook his seat to play his move, leaving Panaka looking gobsmacked.

I was starting to get frustrated with him. He had an air of great importance, yet didn’t seem to know what to do with that importance, and he was definitely about to yell at Obi-Wan for something he couldn’t help.

“Please. Not now. There isn’t anything we can do right now, and I’m sure Master Jinn has a plan.”

Which I wasn’t so sure on myself, but was leaving that be-I had learnt that Qui-Gon Jinn did not do things by the book, and when it looked like he was making bad life choices, he wasn’t.

There was a small huff and Panaka flounced out. Next to me, I felt Hillaré physically relax.

“I hate him. He’s the reason I transferred to the piloting corps.” She shrugged. “That, and Ferrin said I had the walk of a true-born pilot.”

“Who’s Ferrin? A competitor for Maris for your heart?”

“No!” She said blushing bright red. “He’s in charge of the small, Nubian navy. And Maris isn’t after my heart!”

Obi-Wan rose an eyebrow as she put her Queen in the sight of his Bishop. “Really?” He asked, taking it and putting her into checkmate.

“We are not talking about this anymore.” Hillaré declared, pushing the board away. “I’ve got to do checks in the cockpit now.”

She left and I winced as Obi-Wan gave me a reproachful look.

“Did you have to do that?”

“It was just teasing.”

“It was mean. She doesn’t want to be reminded of someone she loves being stuck on a planet under occupation. Not everyone deals with problems and emotions by pretending they aren’t as important as they were.”

I pursed my lips, knowing full well I was in the wrong.

“Sandstorm.” Obi-Wan said, changing subject “They can’t come back for a while.”

“I’m sure they’re fine.”

I stopped, getting a strange feeling of déjà vu, which was broken by a whisper.

“_Syndor…_”

“Oh shut up!” I exclaimed.

“Excuse me?” Obi-Wan asked, outraged.

“No, not you.”

“_Syndor…_” The voice whispered again, more insistent this time.

I stood up and walked towards the corridor, letting the Force guide me.

I was vaguely aware of Obi-Wan standing up, but then apparently thinking better of it, and sitting back down, but I was most focused on the Force pulling me forward to my bunk.

On auto-control, I took off the handmaiden robes and pulled on my blacks and armour. All the while, the Force pulled on me, tugging me away from the bunk and into the waves of the Force.

It was like meditation but I was hyperaware of being on the move and…and at some point I had left the ship and joined the swirling sands of the storm.

In fact, it wasn’t so much like meditation than shadow-walking. Joining the currents of the Force. Becoming less material-becoming half-dead.

And all the while, the voice continued to whisper my name.

I woke up, dazed and disorientated, in what was definitely Tatooine, except that everywhere was green jungle and water running. I was kneeling in front of a pond, and as I looked in it, the image of my face wavered, to be replaced with a scene from my past.

I could see me – 16-years-old and training in a glade in the woods just outside the village where _ner aliit_ lived – and I could see my sister – 4 years older and leaning against a tree correcting my posture.

None of the words reached my ears.

The picture was disturbed by a gentle splash of water into the pond and reaching up to my face, I wiped the tears away.

“_Why are you sad, Werd’ika_?” The voice asked.

I looked up, expecting to see the mystery person, but there was no-one.

I took a deep breath and cocked my head.

“Because I haven’t let go.”

“_Why not_?”

“I _can’t _let go. Not while I know I’m the one who let her get captured.”

There was no reply from the voice, but the silent image shimmered and changed.

Shinna was running through the wood, calling something.

I knew what this was and I stood up, attempted to back away, but was met with tightly knitted vines. I tried to close my eyes but I couldn’t. And despite the silence, I could hear her call “_Werd’ika! Where are you_?”

I had just been finishing up picking berries for the dessert we were going to make together. But I could hear the desperation in her voice and I stood.

But she was attacked – I watched as the men attacked-and I started running.

I burst into the glade – I watched myself burst into the glade – and the men turned on me and she told me to turn into a shadow and run.

And I did.

“I ran and I left her and I never told anyone what I did. I left her, and I can never make up for that. I lied to my entire family, saying I couldn’t find her, not that I watched as she was taken.” I whispered this to the pond and then I yelled. “I ran! I ran and I’m a coward and that’s why I’m sad. I’m sad for myself and for her and for the fact that everything could have been different.”

I fell back onto the ground, my knees hitting the jungle floor with a soft squelch, sobbing. I could taste salt.

As the tears fell into the pond, it evaporated into the sky, followed by the trees and the plant life withering and dying and turning into sand. Within the space of a minute, I was kneeling in sand, with no more tears left to cry.

“_Werd’ika_, _you have a great struggle ahead of you._”

I nodded numbly.

“_Let me show you something._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mando'a:<\b>  
_ner aliit<\i> - my family/clan  
_Werd'ika<\i> - Little Shadow/a term of endearment__**


	8. Chapter8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! New chapter!

> _Bastila Shan, a woman of barely 22, hid behind one of the many crates dotted around the hangar, holding her breath and tightening her mental shields as she heard the creaking of leather boots of got closer._
> 
> _“Come out!” A metallic voice demanded, accompanying the voice._
> 
> _Bastila shifted ever so slightly, and the figure who had been stalking her moved so quickly, she didn’t have time to fully register it. The Force caught her and she was thrown and held against the nearest wall. _
> 
> _As she stared at the masked and hooded figure, trying desperately to ignore the milky white gaze of the dead littering the floor and to stem the encroaching tears (and failing at both), she noticed the slightest fluctuation in the Force._
> 
> _Surprise._
> 
> _The figure – a woman Bastila realised – took her hood down and removed her mask, setting it down on the nearest crate. _
> 
> _“So you’re the one who caused such mayhem on my ship.”_
> 
> _Bastila felt her stomach drop right out of her. Of all those who could find her, of course it was Darth Revan, the most powerful of the Sith couple. _
> 
> _“Where…where are the others?” She asked hoarsely, the Force constricting over her windpipe. _
> 
> _“I’m afraid, dear heart, that your little distraction – while, admittedly, very affective – did not have quite the desired results.” The Force relaxed around her and Bastila fell to the floor, coughing. Her chin was caught by two gloved fingers and was forced up, to look directly into the golden eyes. “They are dead. As you will be soon.”_
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _Bastila rubbed her throat as she regained consciousness. _
> 
> _Her first thought was that she must be dead, but the Force whispered that that was wrong._
> 
> _She sat up, and looked around. Darth Revan was next to her, blood dribbling out of an ugly gash in the side of her head. But that was nothing compared to the injury in the Force. _
> 
> _Bastila looked around at the room, and made a split second decision. She gathered the Force around herself, and gently sent the healing and light at the wound, carefully reknitting the flesh. Taking a deep breath, she constructed a hasty shield around the turmoil that was her mind, and began to drag the body towards a nearby freighter. _
> 
> _“Excuse me!” An affronted voice exclaimed, as Bastila laid the woman on the couch and pushed the Twi’lek out of the way._
> 
> _“I’m very sorry.” She said, beginning the lift off sequence. “Unless, of course, you want to die, of course. This place is definitely going to blow.” _
> 
> _There was a growl and the Twi’lek sighed. “Big Z says that both he and T3 agree with you. Don’t see why.” She muttered at the end, taking the co-pilots seat, and sighed again. “I’m Mission, Mission Vao. The Wookie’s called Zaalbar and the droid is T3.”_
> 
> _“I’m-” Bastila paused just before introducing herself as a Jedi, “Bas Shan. And my companion is my sister Syndor.”_
> 
> _“Wherever we’re going,” Mission warned, “had better be where you get off.”_
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _“Your friend is still unconscious.” Mission helpfully pointed out, as she and Bastila stared at the comatose Sith Lord. _
> 
> _“We weren’t exactly friends. But you’re not wrong. I’m going to look for someone at this stop.” _
> 
> _“You’re not using my money!”_
> 
> _“Sure thing Sweetie.” Bastila said, smirking slightly at how the 14-year-old tried to sound so mature, but just ending up being cuter. “I’m going now – and I’ll buy some food while we’re there. It’s the least I can do.”_
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _“Really!?” Mission was giving Bastila the biggest stink eye she had received in her life. “He’s staying!?”_
> 
> _“He was bored and wanted to see the world.” Bastila explained, carefully hiding the real reason. “Jolee, this is Mission Vao. Mission, this is Jolee Bindo.” _
> 
> _Mission sighed – she quite liked doing that – and shrugged. “Fine. If you insist he must stay.” And she turned on heel. “Don’t mind her. She warms up to you.” _
> 
> _“Really?” He asked mildly._
> 
> _“Would you like to see Syndor?” Bastila asked._
> 
> _He nodded genially. “Although, I believe that’s not her real name.”_
> 
> _“Really.” Bastila said dryly, leading him to the small Medical Room where Darth Revan had lain for the las t3 weeks under Bastila’s care._
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _Revan woke up just a week later. _
> 
> _Luckily, it was just Bastila there, napping in the corner of the room, when there was a crash and she fell out of the bed. Revan stood up, and swayed slightly on the spot. As she spotted Bastila (who had stood up and blinked away the sleep from her eyes as she heard the crash), her face curved into a sneer and she threw a punch, but overbalanced, and Bastila had to catch her under her arms, and gently put her back on her bed._
> 
> _Despite the pain it was clearly causing her, Revan refused to lie down._
> 
> _“Where-”_
> 
> _“Don’t talk.” Bastila said quickly. “Your name is Syndor and mine is Bas. We are on a ship called the Ebon Hawk. You are being healed, so for the love of the Force, please don’t piss off the-” Bastila broke off as she looked at Revan. “Are you alright?” _
> 
> _Revan was shivering slightly, glaring at her shaking hands. “The Force…it’s so faint.”_
> 
> _“Syndor.”_
> 
> _“Do not even go there. Just because I can’t fight you, doesn’t mean I won’t in the future.”_
> 
> _Bastila shrugged, and greeted Jolee. _
> 
> _“I see my patient has had the good graces to wake up.” He said lightly, pushing Revan back onto the bed and began his evaluation. _
> 
> _“So how do you two know each other?” He asked, his Force presence alight with curiosity and something else._
> 
> _“We’re sisters.” Bastila said, and didn’t miss the glare sent her way._
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _“Stop collecting people!” Mission all but yelled as the Mandalorian, Cathar and the HK Protocol droid followed Bastila onto the ship. _
> 
> _She shrugged. “Juhani got evicted, and those two got fired from the Exchange. Who just so happens to also be following this ship. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that would you?”_
> 
> _Mission blushed a deep blue and mumbled an excuse, slipping quickly away. _
> 
> _“She definitely got into something.” Canderous said and Bastila looked after her worriedly._
> 
> _“She’s barely 15. She shouldn’t have.”_
> 
> _T3 came in at that moment beeping frantically. _
> 
> _“Query: Why is Syndor yelling?” HK asked. “Query: Who is Syndor?”_
> 
> _“Oh shit.” Bastila whispered, and legged it from the hallway into the Medical Room which had become Revan’s temporary accommodation. “Hey, is everything al-” She paused in the doorway, the sight of The Dark Lord of the Sith sobbing into the shoulder of Jolee – who was gingerly patting her shoulder and grimacing._
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _“Right!” Mission exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I refuse to have a bunch of freeloaders on my ship. If you are staying you are working – does anyone want out now?”_
> 
> _“Query: What is it exactly that you do?”_
> 
> _Mission sighed heavily. “I’m a freighter. I do transport missions.”_
> 
> _“So you’re a smuggler?” Canderous asked._
> 
> _“No! At the present, I was going to provide Humanitarian Aid to the planet of Telos since the Sith Attack. During our stay on Taris, while Bas was off collecting people, I went with Zaalbar and T3 to collect supplies. We’re on our way to the Telos System now.” She cleared her throat. “Juhani, Jolee and T3 – I want you to distribute Medical Supplies. Zaalbar, Canderous and HK, I want you to do some construction wherever that’s needed, and Syndor, Bas and I will be giving out food packs and blankets. Got it?”_
> 
> _They all murmured their assent as the ship jerked underneath them. “And we’re here.”_
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _“Bas, was it?” _
> 
> _Bastila looked up from where she was putting packs together for the various refugees. “Um…yes. And you are?”_
> 
> _“Carth Onasi. I need your help to find my son.”_
> 
> _Bastila blinked. “How much would you pay? Because Mission will actually kill me if I bring along one more unpaying person onto the ship.”_
> 
> _“I would pay all my life savings to find him.”_
> 
> _Bastila grinned. “Welcome aboard.”_
> 
> _She picked up the box full of survival packs, and started on her way, Carth walking beside her. “Is that one of yours?” Bastila looked over and had to hide her surprise at Revan, sitting in the muddy ground, telling stories to some young orphans, who were looking up, enraptured. _
> 
> _“Yeah, she’s my sister.” She said quietly, as one of the children climbed into Revan’s lap and the other snuggled closer. _
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _“Bastila!” Mission yelled, and Bastila froze, actually slightly scared by the 15-year-old. _
> 
> _“He’s paying!” She yelled back, and there was silence, ended by a sigh. _
> 
> _She went back to reading, tucked into the corner between her bunk and the wall, before the Datapad was picked out of her hand and a gentle shift of the weight of the bed. _
> 
> _“Bas.” Revan whispered, and Bastila looked up._
> 
> _“Yes?” _
> 
> _“I’m pregnant.”_
> 
> _Bastila was silent._
> 
> _“I like it here.” Revan continued. “I like being Syndor. I like being your sister. I like being yelled at by Mission. I like having philosophical conversations with Jolee. I want my child to grow up with all this, but I have done awful things and they will find out eventually and even if they didn’t, I couldn’t keep it from them.”_
> 
> _Bastila continued to sit in her shocked silence, even as Revan looked at her._
> 
> _“So?”_
> 
> _“I…I have exactly no idea how to respond by that.”_
> 
> _Revan slumped forward, and Bastila rubbed her back carefully, but snatched it back as she tensed._
> 
> _“I have had the perfect idea.” She mumbled. “Because I know where Carth’s son could be.”_
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _“How does Syndor know where Dustil is?” Carth asked, pacing to and fro in front of Syndor’s bunk. I huffed. “She doesn’t know, she just wants to prove herself. She’s done some really awful things, seen what those awful things have done and is now attempting to make up for it.” I paused. “Syndor didn’t used to be her name.”_
> 
> _“Who was she?”_
> 
> _“You really do not want to know.” Bastila said. “Well,” she corrected, “you do, but you won’t like it if I told you.”_
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _Bastila stumbled as she felt a punch to the back of her head. She spun around and caught Carth’s arm._
> 
> _“What the fuck!?”_
> 
> _He glowered at me. “She’s Revan? You have been hiding that from us?”_
> 
> _“I trust her.” _
> 
> _“But should we trust you? You brought a Sith Lord into my ship.” Mission said, matching the glower. “She could have killed us all – you could have. You are a Dark Jedi, are you not?”_
> 
> _“No. I was sent to kill her by the Jedi Order.”_
> 
> _“And you disobeyed your orders? Why?” Carth asked._
> 
> _Bastila carefully examined the room, noticing the hostile stares and the blasters pointed in her direction. “The Force told me not to.”_
> 
> _“Oh right. The great and glorious ‘Force’. Always the excuse that is used.”_
> 
> _“Yes. It is. Because it’s true. Revan could very well be manipulating us – me – but I trust that she has truly changed in what she wants to be, and if not…” Bastila tailed off. “I’ll finish the task the Jedi Order sent me to do.”_
> 
> _Carth stared her directly in the eyes, before lowering his blaster._
> 
> _“Bas is right.” Jolee said. “As she once was Jedi Sita Karo, and became Revan, she has shed her old identity and taken on a new one. For the good or for the bad, we will have to see.”_
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _Revan marched in as we were eating food around the galley table, followed by three young people._
> 
> _“Dustil, Rena and Griye.” She looked around. “And yes, I am Revan.” _
> 
> _She sat down next to Bastila and began to eat as Dustil and Carth gave each other a wary look._
> 
> _“Father.” He said formally. Carth smiled, and put out his hand, which Dustil took, and shook. They both looked at each other before Carth opened his arms, and Dustil hugged him._
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _“There’s this thing called a Star Forge, which can create an unlimited number of droids and ships.” Syndor said. “With it, Alek will be able to win this war and the galaxy will burn.” Her hands scrunched into the fabric of her trousers. “I can get on that space station and I can end this war.” She turned her sight to the other. “You need to get the Republic to these co-ordinates.” She paused. “I know you don’t trust me, and with good reason, but on this you must. I will see you in a week or so.”_
> 
> _She turned and hugged Bastila tightly. “Thank you.” She whispered._
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _Carth found convincing the Republic easy enough. The battle was not. _
> 
> _Mission and Carth flew, while Canderous and Bastila were on the guns. But the space station blew up and the Republic won the day. _
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _Bastila looked up from where she and the rest of the Ebon Hawk was sitting at the victory feast the Republic was holding. They all looked as uncomfortable as she was feeling. _
> 
> _It didn’t help, when in a thoroughly Gothic entrance, the doors to the hall blew open, revealing Syndor. Her clothes were torn and burnt and soaked in blood. She met Bastila’s eyes and promptly collapsed._
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _It was Canderous’ idea to rebuild Mandalore. _
> 
> _Maybe it was good, maybe it wasn’t. But once he had put someone in charge, the entire crew of the Ebon hawk moved to one of the uninhabited planets in Mandalorian space._
> 
> _A safe place for Force Sensitives in Mandalore._
> 
> _Arda._
> 
> _+++++_
> 
> _Syndor._
> 
> _Your long past ancestor was light, then dark, then grey. _
> 
> _There are no definitive answers in life, nothing stays exactly the same._
> 
> _The last big battle between light and dark ended with a split even wider than before, despite what your ancestors wanted. _
> 
> _This time, Syndor, help the galaxy find balance before it burns._


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 is here!  
(Huttese and Mando'a translations at the bottom)

The first thing I did when I woke up was lean over the side of the pallet I was sleeping on and gag over my empty stomach. And then I took a good look around where I was sleeping – it definitely wasn’t the middle of the desert where I had fallen unconscious.

It was still Tatooine – that I was certain of, but I was now inside a small dwelling. I pushed myself up into a sitting position, properly taking in the room. It was small – about three meters squared – with a faded rug on the floor next to the pallet and small charms made of a wood-like substance hanging on the wall. In the corner, my armour was piled up, with my blacks folded on top.

I looked down to see that I was wearing a rough-woven dress.

I stood up, steadying myself with the wall and the Force, and stumbled slowly towards the door. It opened into a slightly bigger living area. Around the old table, a dark-haired woman and five young children sat, eating together.

“_Bouikan. Peee...peee doth ka_?” I asked hoarsely, attempting to remember my Huttese.

The woman looked up and smiled gently at me. “_Tah doth mah yagca_.”

It took me a moment to recognise what she said. “Uh…”

“Would you find speaking Basic easier?” She asked, coming forward to lead me to a seat. “Would you like some water? We don’t have much, but you’ve had a fever.”

I mumbled my thanks, taking the cup with shaking hands and sipping it carefully. “‘m Syndor.”

The woman smiled – even slightly feverish and fending off a headache, I didn’t fail to notice how she was so smiley. But not happy. I couldn’t feel anything like true happiness through the Force. “I’m Shmi Skywalker. And these are my children: Kitster Banai, Amee Darklighter, Beru Whitesun, Seek Sandskimmer and Melee Anglethorn.”

They were much too similar in age and different in looks to be related by blood. Kitster had much darker skin than the rest of them, tan as they were, and Seek was a red head while the others had either dark or blond hair. But I doubted that that mattered much to her.

They all gave me a cheery hello.

As I thought that, she smiled at them. “There’s still half an hour before curfew. Go out and play.”

“Thank you for your hospitality. And I will try to be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

“Nonsense.” Shmi said. “We’ll be coming with you.”

I squinted at her, trying to get my sluggishly working brain to work. “How?” I asked curiously. “I’m still not sure how I’m getting _myself_ off planet, let alone you as well.”

“I’m going to use your scanner to remove our slave chips and stowaway on whichever ship you leave on.” She let her smile fall away “And if you resist, I can easily poison you.”

“OK, wait up a moment.” I rubbed my head. “I’m slightly concerned that you looked through my stuff, but it’s not too unprecedented. So you found me in the desert, right?”

Shmi nodded. “Correct.”

“And you brought me here, because you knew I would be able to get you off planet?”

“Correct.” Her sharp exterior – so different from her warm, motherly front she put on in front of the children – was also hiding a fear that I wouldn’t be blackmailed into helping her, leaking out of some impressive shielding from someone who was apparently not trained.

I nodded slowly. “I’ll help you. I’ll find someone to fly us away tomorrow, and we can get away then. Although, your threat was pretty good.” I finished off the water. “And you can leave my scanner behind, if you so desire.”

Shmi nodded curtly. “Thank you.” She turned around, undoubtedly to go to the door and watch her children play in the sand.

“Shmi.” I called. “Who did you lose?”

Her shoulders tensed slightly, before she made them relax. “I told him not to look back, and I’m trying to take my own advice.”

I narrowed my eyes, but didn’t ask any more questions.

That night, I slept on the carpet next to the bed pallet, so Shmi could have her bed back and because it was much too hot to be sleeping under anything. Before I went to the sleep, I meditated – in an attempt to push back the illness that had been brought on by the vision; to turn the vision over in my head, and the prospect of a doomsday beginning soon, or some sort of war between the Dark Side and the Light Side of the Force; on the conversation, and let it go over in my head, wondering who Shmi had given up; and…and on my sister.

When I woke up the next morning, Shmi and the children had already gone. Shmi had left a small note on the counter, recommending that I eat at the small Cantina in the town, and look for pilots there, and I took her advice.

I kept the dress Shmi had given me, and put on my boots underneath the skirt, strapping a knife to my leg, and I wandered into town, with a pocket of peggats for food.

I ordered a glass of water and took a seat at one of the tables in the corner.

I stared at the water in the glass ripple as people walked past my table, knocking into it, and leant my elbows on the table, burying my face in my hands.

It was suddenly quite hard to breath, and in the back of my mind as I tried to get air into my lungs, I was thinking of everything at once.

I had abandoned my sister, and I had felt so guilty I had forgotten her, pushed her memory away, when I should have _done _something, anything. I should have told my mother the truth, but it was too late now, the trail was too cold and dark. And then the war had come and I was in love – so desperately, heart-achingly in love – with someone who could never love me back, even if he did. And the war – and Death Watch – had taken so much away from me and _ner aliit_ – _Ba’vodu_ Finnin; Ba’vodu Junan; my feet; Shinna; _Pipa_ Nista…so much that I wanted to take back, but I couldn’t. And now there was going to be another war, a bigger war, all throughout the galaxy between the Dark and the Light.

I had read enough history books to know that the Galaxy was going to burn and take so much more.

Not to mention, I had just been effectively kidnapped, and hadn’t reacted with any sort of concern.

I reached out to the Force for some help and it creeped into me, dark and light intertwining to relieve the emotional turmoil inside me enough for oxygen to start properly filling my lungs again.

I jerked as someone gently touched my back, and promptly grabbed their arm, punching them in the stomach. Or at least trying to, as my fist was caught by another gloved hand.

I looked up at the towering man in Mandalorian battle armour, and cocked my head.

I smiled. “_Su'cuy_.”

The man snatched his hand back to place it warningly on his blaster.

“You want a drink Fett?” I asked, wiping my wet eyes and setting my shoulders straight, glad I could finally breath again. He continued to stand there, and I sighed dramatically.

“I’m not about to poison you, unless your part of Death Watch, in which case, you aren’t leaving this establishment alive.”

The battle-readiness of his body relaxed infinitesimally and he took a seat opposite me. “I will take you up on that.” He said gruffly, and I ordered him something.

“So, Fett, what have you been doing recently? We lost contact with you about a year before Duchess Satine reclaimed the throne.” I asked, sipping the water and very pleased that I hadn’t ordered anything stronger.

He shrugged. “I’ve just been working as a Bounty Hunter here and there. And what about you and the others at the centre of your death maze.”

“It’s a Nova field, not a death maze.” I corrected.

“It’s crazy! Who decides that the best place to live is one a planet who’s sun is in the middle of a vast array of suns that explode regularly?”

“Apparently, Sith.”

“Not to mention,” he added, as if I hadn’t spoken, “the fact that there’s a small nebula in the Arda System made of intensely flammable gas, and the multiple asteroid fields.”

“We enjoy living on the edge.” I said. “And the fact that everything changes so much, means it’s nigh impossible for a Non-Force Sensitive to get through.” I bit the inside of my cheek. “_Fa cha youkesa Kahka Lohba pionpoe_.”

“_Aruetiise_?”

I nodded darkly.

“So, what are you doing here?” He asked. “This is no place for the daughter of a Noble Woman.”

“Please, I will go wherever I so desire.”

“You got stranded, didn’t you?”

“I’m not actually sure right now.” I said, finishing off my water. “I _was_ on a ship with some Jedi and the Queen of a planet, but then I followed a voice in my head; fell unconscious in the desert; had a dream prophesising a coming doom; and then got kidnapped by a slave woman who wants to get off planet with her children, which reminds me – can you help me free a few slaves and get us off planet?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Huttese:**  
_Bouikan. Peee...peee doth ka?_ \- Hello. Where...where am I?  
_Tah doth mah yagca._ \- This is my home.
> 
> **Mando'a:**  
_ner aliit_ \- my clan  
_Ba'vodu_ \- Aunt/Uncle  
_Beva_ \- Cousin  
_Su'cuy_ \- A greeting that literally translates to 'So, you're still alive'  
_Bic narir va gev Kyr'tsad ba'hak._ \- It didn't stop Death Watch though.  
_Aruetiise_ \- Traitors


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, so new chapter! It is shorter than I would have liked as it is taking a while to get to where I want it to go.  
As well as this, I have been writing two other fanfics as well as this one. Another Star Wars fanfic, which is going to be a sort-of fix-it based around Padme's Handmaidens. And a LOTR fanfic, which is in very early developments (I got into LOTR only a week ago), which is probably going to be about Legolas and his family, and it'll probably develop into a series about how that affects the rest of the world.  
So, this fanfic (as slow as the updates are currently) will probably slow down a bit, and I hope to put up my Handmaiden fanfic within the next month. The LOTR one will be quite a bit longer because I need to research the lore a bit more, but I will hopefully upload that before September.  
Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter!  
(Translations, as always, at the bottom)

I lead Shmi and her children towards the ship at the point that none of the moons or suns were in the sky. The dark was oppressing, and clearly scared the children, already fearful of being discovered, but I wasn’t too concerned, flitting in and out of the shadows, checking the road ahead of us, and pulling them along.

I still hadn’t quite wrapped my mind around anything that had happened in the last week, and pushed it to the back of my head until I could properly look through them.

Although, Bastila had apparently taken up a sort-of residence in my mind and kept whispering at me to do exactly what I wasn’t doing. I’m fairly certain Shmi thought that I was insane because I ended up whisper yelling at her to please kindly kriff off, or else I would find a way to exorcise her from my mind and then who would do her dirty work, huh?

To be honest, I wasn’t really sure why she was in my head – she had given me the warning the Force had wanted her to give.

I supposed that I was just going to have to live with her, and ask her later – and until then, continue convincing people that I was completely crazy.

It had not been a good week.

Because at least two Mandalorians were involved in this daring escape, it quickly fell apart.

The first issue was the guards surrounding the port. The ones that Fett had _not_ told me about. I hissed at the former slaves to still, and let the Force flow through me.

I tried to sneak up on them, slipping into the shadows, but one turned around as I made myself visible and tangible again, and swung wildly at me with his sword, catching the top of my arm with the blade.

I hissed in pain, and before they could yell for help I had my vibroblades in my hands and slit both their throats, getting blood on my hands. I sighed.

Once their bodies were hidden, I gestured for the family to follow me, and we snuck into the hangar.

The second was that Fett’s ship was grounded.

“Why didn’t you tell me, _Di’kut_?” I whisper yelled at him, as Shmi sighed irritably, shot me a look that could kill and pushed him out the way, looking at it herself.

He glared at me. “Because I didn’t realise until I did the check over. Which I only did now.”

I opened my mouth to retort, when Shmi cut me off. “Give me ten minutes and I can get it working again.” Fett sighed, and muttered something in Mando’a that sounded suspiciously insulting.

These two things wouldn’t have been awful, if not for the fact that someone found the bodies I had hidden, because luck, and an alarm went up.

Fett was so clinical in the way that he dealt with the situation, that I realised this was not the first time he had rescued some slaves. He rounded up the children and hid them in one of the many smuggling compartments in his ship, with a distant sort of comfort that they seemed to understand. He told Shmi to hide in another once she was finished with the repairs.

“How long will you take?” He asked, and she gave him a rough estimation of 3 more minutes. He nodded thoughtfully, before turning towards me. “Follow everything I do. And put this on, I don’t want any questions about that arm.” He said, and I nodded mutely, putting on the slightly too big jacket and trailing behind him as he marched towards the entry ramp.

Admittedly, I didn’t appreciate the idea of following someone else, but Fett was older than me and one of the few survivors of Galidraan, as well as the son of the last _Manda’lor_. If I was to follow anyone he would be on the list.

At the bottom of the ramp was a Twi’lek standing diplomatically still.

“Jango Fett. We are required to search your ship – the guards have been killed and we believe there have been 5 separate reports of slaves going missing.”

“And why, Fortuna, would you believe that I would be harbouring runaway slaves on my ship? I want no trouble with Jabba and you know that.”

Bib made no gesture to say that he agreed or disagreed. “It is necessary that we search all the ships, whatever their owners believe. We cannot have slaves running away, can we Fett?”

I boiled inside at the sleezy being, but didn’t react to his words. Instead, I reached out with the minimal calm I had in my body, to stop Fett from exploding from the words.

“And who is this?” He asked, gesturing towards me.

I had hidden myself in the shadows, and looked towards Fett at this question. He gestured towards me to come forward and I did so, keeping a hand on the blaster at my hip.

“Werda Fett.” He said simply. “She’s a distant relative of mine.”

It was clear from how Fortuna’s eyes narrowed even further that he did not believe that. He took a step forward, and I mirrored the action.

“If you want to come aboard, be my guest. Werda will show you around.” I bowed my head slightly, and spun on my heal. Fortuna followed, and I gave him a tour of the ship, so quick that by the time we had finished, Fett was still arguing with the Twi’leks goons about them going onboard too.

Thankfully, Shmi had finished repairs, and was nowhere in sight.

“That is all there is – no fugitive slaves. Now if you would please leave because I am tired and irritable and would like to sleep sometime this Taungsday.” Fortuna opened his mouth to disagree with this statement and I glared.

“I really wouldn’t argue with her.” Fett said. “She’s a very good shot with a blaster.”

With a huff, Fortuna flounced off to the next ship, his men following in his wake, and Fett and I walked back inside, closing the ramp behind us.

Silently, he handed me some food. “Take this to the kids and make sure they’re alright. Well, as alright as one can be.” He paused. “And then please can you take a look at your arm. There’s a First Aid kit in the cockpit, and I’ll check it over for you.”

I nodded, taking the plate and doing as he said, opening the compartment in the wall of the corridor.

“Supper time!” I exclaimed quietly, laying it out in front of them. They ate greedily, but quietly, as the change of environment, and the hecticness and fear involved in getting here, was likely a huge shock to the system. Before I could bundle them back in the dark compartment, however, Beru scrambled into my lap, promptly falling asleep.

After a few minutes of deliberation on what to do, the rest had also lain down and slept, so I just rested my own head against the wall behind me and followed in their example.

I supposed I should have gone to the cockpit, but it was surprisingly comfortable here, and my arm wasn’t hurting _that_ much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mando'a:**  
_Di'kut_ \- Idiot, but quite a bit ruder depending on the circumstances it is said in.  
_Manda'lor_ \- The leader of Mandalore


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Yay!  
Just a warning - I have found that I will be going back and editing chapters as I see fit, as the story changes in my mind quite a lot, so I will say if between two chapters, I have edited previous chapters. And on that note, I have edited chapter 10.  
Translations at the bottom.

“Syndor Lotus!” A voice called causing a peak in the pounding of my head. I jerked awake at the sound of my name, reaching down for a knife that wasn’t at my hip, and blushed crimson at the twin looks of disappointment on the faces of both Fett and Shmi.

“Do you have _any_ idea what would have happened if Fortuna had come back?” Jango asked, nearly spitting the words out in agitation, and I contained a wince as the words hit my ears.

I mumbled an apology, Beru stirring in my lap.

“Thankfully,” Shmi added, “they did not, and we were able to leave the planet…”

I zoned out slightly as she scolded me, attempting to draw on the Force to quell the growing headache – it only partially worked, but it was suddenly a lot easier to listen to Shmi than it was.

“…no idea how irresponsible you have been – are you even listening?”

I nodded, and brought a sleeve up to my mouth to cough into.

“Where –” I paused as I heard how hoarse my voice was. “Where are we going?”

“We are currently on course for Naboo – and no,” she said, with a glare that closed my mouth, “you are not allowed to complain. That is our decision and we shall stick to it, do you understand?”

I nodded mutely, feeling that this was probably what it felt like for a normal person to be reprimanded by their parents. I was almost tempted to say that they _weren’t_ my parents, but that would not have helped my case.

However, I did feel that as I had been on the planet for about 6 months, and knew what the Trade Federation was capable of.

“The planet is no place for children.” I said, eventually.

“And you know what is best for my children do you?”

I internally cringed. “I did not mean to fall asleep, Skywalker, but that does not change the fact that Naboo is an active war zone, and it certainly never helped me to be exposed at such a young age to battle.”

Shmi looked like she might argue, but Fett glanced at her and she gently woke up her children and took them out of the corridor. I stood up, stretching my numb legs, steadying myself against the wall as I felt a wave of dizziness hit me.

“What actually happened on Tatooine, Ferra?”

His eyes were sharp and piercing, and I felt my stomach drop slightly.

_Syndor! Do not tell him about me, or the desert._

I resisted the urge to close my eyes as the voice came back, and told Bastila to shut up with as strong a thought as I could muster.

_You cannot tell him!_

_Why not?_

_If the Sith find out…_

_The Sith will not get the information from Jango Fett._

_But…_

_Please get out of my head!_ I eventually thought viciously, as the pounding in my head grew.

There was silence and I released a breath I didn’t know I had been holding.

“Ferra?”

I tensed, refocusing my eyes back on the face in front of me.

Oddly enough, Fett looked concerned. He came forward and pressed his hand to my forehead, pressing his lips together.

“You’re burning up…” He muttered. “Come.” He took one of my arms, but I shook him off, opting instead to use the wall to get into the bunk room. He pursed his lips, but turned away.

I quite happily collapsed on a nearby bed, pulling of my boots, the few pieces of armour and jacket, even as my arm yelled at me, and I bit on my lip to stop the rising scream. I reached into the Force to try and quell the pain, and it thankfully dulled enough for me to strip down to my leggings and vest. And then I got a proper look at the injury.

I had a very small moment of utter panic.

“Shmi!” I called, steadying my shaky voice. “Could you please bring the med kit in here?”

I was taking a few deep breaths, trying to collect my scattered thoughts as Shmi came in.

“Fett!” She yelled at once, and sat on the edge of the bed, taking my hand so as to manoeuvre my arm into a position she could examine it better. Even though she didn’t directly touch the wound, it still caused a fiery pain to burn through me.

I risked another glance at it – I wasn’t usually squeamish over wounds, but this one was different, and it was truly a matter of how much Bastila had fucked with my head that I hadn’t noticed it. It must have been…I actually have no idea how the wound came to be like it was, and that was the problem.

I had been so wrapped up in my head, the visions, her warning and Bastila, that I had not noticed the dark side being used on my very being, to the point where some darksider – and if Bastila’s predictions were correct, quite possibly the Sith – had been able to manipulate a poison into the wound. The veins all up the top of my arms were a horrifying black and the cut was now gaping open, excreting some greenish pus, and it smelled disgusting.

“…erra! Ferra!”

I jerked my eyes open, not even aware I had closed them.

“Mhm.” I hummed, attempting to keep the wooziness from my head.

“How long has this been like this?” Fett asked, and I blinked slowly, trying to form the thought.

“‘m not sure. Didn’t look at it.”

He sighed, and I leaned against the shoulder next to me, closing my eyes, letting the sleep come back.

_Syndor, do not fall asleep._

I groaned. “Not now, Bas.” I mumbled.

_You cannot! The wound will corrupt you, and the Sith will find me. He will kill you then._

“M’kay.”

“Syndor, who are talking to?” A soft, feminine voice, unlike the one in my head asked.

“Don’t worry, Toni.” I said, assuming that was who it was – Toni was always the one who looked after me when I was ill. “‘tis nothing.”

I closed my eyes again, even as the voice in my head was yelling at me to not. I ignored it as it got quieter and quieter, until I could no longer hear it.

I wasn’t going to sleep, it was just getting brighter and brighter in the room and it was hurting my head.

When I next opened my eyes, the room was almost completely dark and Shinna was standing in front of me.

That wasn’t right.

But then she smiled, and her gold eyes met mine, and the feeling that screamed that everything about this situation was wrong went away.

Shinna was here. She was always here for me.

Although, I wasn’t entirely sure where here was.

Thoughts and memories flitted across my minds eye, but I found it impossible to grasp at any of them, so instead I trusted that Shinna knew and would make everything better.

I closed my eyes again, and began to drift off as a warm, blanket-like sensation fell over my mind, whispering that I was safe and secure.

Pain shot through me as someone wrapped arms underneath my legs and torso and lifted me up, and I screamed, what self-control I might have had, lost in the confusing sensation of everything. And as it dulled I could hear, through the fog of my mind, a voice that I knew.

“_Nuhoy Vod’ika. Gar cuyir morut'yc__._”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Mando'a:**  
_Nuhoy Vod’ika. Gar cuyir morut'yc._ \- Sleep little sister. You are safe.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! Yay!

“How did it get like this?”

I didn’t recognise the voice – it was quite low for a female, but steady and had a distinctly twi’lek lilt to it.

“We don’t know! She beat up some thugs and got hit by one of their weapons. It could barely be considered a wound, and she was going to look at it, but got distracted. By all accounts it shouldn’t have been a Sith weapon.”

Fett. That was Fett.

“It was irresponsible of you. She’s barely above the age of majority, and you should have-”

And that was…Shinna? It couldn’t be.

“Should have what? I couldn’t force her to do anything, and you know that full well.”

“I don’t know,” The-Woman-Who-Sounded-Like-My-Probably-Dead-Sister said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “realised sooner that she had disappeared and not come to deal with her wound, instead of being all lovey-dovey with your girlfriend.”

“I am not his girlfriend!” Another woman said. Who’s voice I recognised but who I couldn’t quite pinpoint name-wise.

“This is all very interesting, but I still want to know more about how your friend got such a wound. It will help with the healing process.” That was the first speaker.

“I thought you said that you got all the poison out!” The-Person-Who-I-Was-Beginning-To-Suspect-Was-Actually-My-Probably-Dead-Sister exclaimed, and I could feel the sudden increase of anger in the Force, which was quickly quelled.

“I did. But the wound is still diffused in the dark side-”

“No it’s not.”

Because I was now really confused, I tried to open my eyes and find out exactly what was going on.

_You need rest Syndor. You will find out all you need to in time._

I groaned as I recognised the voice, and redoubled my efforts, thankfully causing the conversation (which was quickly turning into an argument) to cease.

My eyelids felt like lead and when I did finally manage to get them to open, I had to narrow them suddenly against the glaring light.

“Please shut up.” Was the first thing I croaked out once my eyes were fully open without a substantial amount of pain.

“And they will.” The voice that had first brought me out of my unconsciousness said pointedly, now with the body of a blue skinned twi’lek. A Jedi Healer. “Now, I want you to sit up and drink something.”

At some point between my first groan and me opening my eyes, the healer had pushed out those in the small room, so it was just me and her as she helped me to sit up against a pile of cushions and sip from a plastic cup of water.

When I had finished, she refilled it and gave it to me. I held it carefully in the hand that wasn’t strapped to my stomach. “I’ve got other patients to check on, but Healer Grent will come to check your arm and to make sure you get some time to sleep.” She smiled. “I’ll send your friends in.”

The door swung shut behind her, and I was given about 5 seconds of peace to contemplate the familiarity of the name Grent, before the door burst back open and in walked My-Sister-Who-Was-Apparently-Not-Dead-Or-Captured-At-All.

She lunged forward, as if to bundle me into a hug, but stopped halfway across the room, and even I, for whom reading emotions was not my forte when I wasn’t injured, could feel the turmoil in the Force around her.

“Shinna.” I eventually said, rather formally. “You’ve changed your hair.”

She nodded awkwardly. “It’s what everyone does on the ship.” There was silence, and then her face creased as she attempted to stop a sudden flow of tears. “I’m so, so sorry Syndor.”

“Why didn’t you come back?”

It was all I could really think to ask. I had thought – we had all thought – that she would have gone to the ends of the galaxy to get back to us, if she could. It’s how we worked.

A flicker of confusion passed over her face. “What?”

“Why didn’t you come back?” I mumbled the question this time, averting my gaze and fiddling with the edge of the gawdy pink blanket.

There was such a long silence, that I almost thought she had left the room.

“I didn’t want to.”

I shot my head up, and automatically threw my mental shields up and blanked my face, pushing all my emotions down, something I realised I hadn’t done since I stepped off that ship in the Tatooine desert. I filed that away in a section of my mind to think about later, along with the other hundreds of problems swirling at the back of my head.

Shinna obviously noticed me completely shut myself off, because she jerkily reached out before snatching her hand back and pushing it through her hair.

“It’s not…it’s not quite like that?” She said, scrunching her freckled nose, and closing her eyes. “I wanted to come back, particularly to you. You were the only thing there that I truly wanted to go back to, you have to know that.”

“Then why didn’t you?” I asked, adjusting myself slightly, so that I sat taller. I put my cup on the bedside table and looked my sister directly in the eye.

Shinna tugged her plait, before letting her hand fall to her side. Quite a large part of me wanted to gather Shinna into my arms and say that everything would be fine, but there were two problems with this: firstly, my injured arm would probably not appreciate that; and I was thoroughly pissed with her and she was not getting off that easily, no matter how much relief and disbelief I felt that Shinna was not dead.

“It was Death Watch that night, as I’m sure you supposed.”

I nodded, masking all the emotion on my face and in my head, drawing on all the many lessons I had had on both topics.

For once, Bastila was quiet.

“They took me to one of their indoctrination camps, but I managed to escape by pretending to agree with what they were teaching. They sent me out with one of the groups of new recruits, and I slipped away then. The first thing I did was strip my armour of the Death Watch paint, and then I got a transport off of the planet.

And that is where I met Fist.” There she paused, closed her eyes and took a few deep breaths, before going on. “He was cute, and charming, and drove any and all thoughts of going home from my mind.”

“You loved him.” I said, carefully watching her face.

She laughed slightly hysterically, and began pacing. “Maybe. It’s what he made me believe anyway.” She pulled her hair out of the plait and raked her fingers through the now loose hair. “He pulled me every which way around the galaxy, hitching rides wherever. And then I found out I was pregnant and he dumped me on some backwater planet far in the outer rim. I had no money, and even if I did, I was pregnant with the child of someone who I had definitely not married, and I was barely 21.”

“Shinna!” I exclaimed despite myself, and then I slipped back behind the mask I had created for myself. “I’m sorry.”

Shinna shook her head – at me or not, I was unsure – and carried on, apparently ignoring my outburst. “Well, the whole break-up was witnessed by this girl Hollie, who was a cabin girl for the Golden Dragon.”

“The pirate gang?”

“The pirate gang.” Shinna clarified. “Anyway, she brought me aboard, and took me to Captain Zell. The Golden Dragon Pirates are all female as I am sure you know. They take in women who have no other place to go, and have a very steal from the rich and give to the poor attitude.”

“I am aware. It’s one of the reasons I kept fucking up the MSP investigation on them.”

Shinna nodded. “Well, Captain Zell was sympathetic to my plight, and said that I could stay on in their crew as a gunner for as long as wanted, so long as the child I was carrying was a girl. This was so much more what I wanted to do with my life, not being stuck in the pointless Civil War of our people.”

“And if it was a boy?” I asked.

“Then she said she would take us somewhere nice in the mid-rim and leave us there with enough to get by. But she needn’t have worried, because about 8 months later I gave birth to little Sora Lotus, who is right now with the rest of the crew, somewhere near Felucia. I’m meeting up with them again once I was certain that you were not going to die.”

I was silent for a little while, pondering all this. “So, you’ll be going again?”

She nodded. “I am sorry Syndor.”

“I know. And I understand why you didn’t come back. But it still hurts.” I tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “I still have the same comm number, so you had better call because I want to properly catch up.”

“I’ll bring Sora next time we meet up?” Shinna asked hopefully, and I nodded, grinning for the first time in quite a while.

“I would love that.”

There was another awkward silence.

“I had better be going then.” My sister said, and I agreed. We had a rather odd hug, and she smiled, waved and was gone again.

“My life is a disaster.” I muttered, reaching for the cup on the bedside table again.

_I noticed._

“Oh you can shut up.”

_Or I could help?_

I sighed. “Fine. How can you help, oh great and wise Bastila?”

There was sudden pain in my head, and I bit my lip to stop myself from crying out. I scrunched my eyes against the pain, and as I tasted blood in my mouth, it disappeared.

And when I opened my eyes, Bastila was sitting in front of me.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
I hope that anyone reading this hasn't been too affected by Coronavirus.  
I have written this chapter as a way to avoid doing my school work, which is probably not a great thing, considering I have to teach myself a half terms worth of stuff for my GCSE course, but there you go.  
As I have more time on my hands than I would usually, I have been writing quite a lot - I will, of course, update this at least once a month, if not more, and I have also been writing a whole load of other stuff for my other fandoms - another Star Wars fanfic, a Lord of the Rings fanfic, a Legend of Zelda fanfic, and an Avatar The Last Airbender fanfic, so updates may be slow, as inspiration comes and goes.  
And a note on this chapter - it is very much a 'this is what has happened in the last 12 chapters' chapter, and it is mainly so that I have somewhere to go from in the next chapters, so that the rest of the story isn't too muddled.  
Anyway, I hope you enjoy, and that you stay safe!

“You can do that?” I asked, placing the cup of water back onto the bedside table.

The apparition of Bastila nodded. “I would do it more – I know that it’s uncomfortable for you to have me in your head, but it takes out quite a lot in me.”

I added this to the mental box.

“You said you could help with…” I gestured vaguely at myself, and the corner of her mouth lifted up.

“I did. Syndor – my Syndor – ended up a bit like you. One night, after we had defeated the Sith, she came into my room, and told me everything on her mind. And after she had cried quite a bit, we made a list of everything and she dealt with them one after the other. It helped her, and I thought it might help you.”

“One problem with that.” I pointed out, leaning back onto my pillow. “I have nothing to write on.”

“Well, when you do – I have to go.” And she was back in that distant part of my mind as the door opened.

Fett came in to inform me that he was taking Shmi to Naboo to find her son. Apparently, Qui-Gon Jinn had thought it a good idea to bring a child to a warzone.

He also informed me that the Jedi Council had agreed to look after her children while she did this, as they could then also give them shots against various diseases, and he asked that if I was allowed out of the Healing Halls that I check on them, as I would be a somewhat familiar face.

I agreed that I would, and then he was gone.

He passed another Jedi as he left. This one was dressed in the blues of a Healer, and I assumed he was the Healer Grent that the other healer had told me about.

“Good afternoon Miss Lotus. I am Healer Locan Grent, and I need to check on your arm.” He glanced at the table. “And while I’m doing that, if you could please finish off you water.”

I did as he asked as he came around and unwrapped the bandages on my arm. It still hurt a fuck ton and I bit my lip to stop myself from reacting to the touch, before going back to sipping from the glass.

“Well, it isn’t poisoned any more, but I suspect that the healing will be slow going, even for a Force Sensitive such as yourself. That wound was inflicted by something seeped in a twisted type of the Force.” He said as he finished bandaging it, and I looked up at him.

“When will I be able to leave?” I asked, and he gave me a quick once over.

“Maybe tomorrow, so long as you stay in the Temple and come back for us to check you over again.”

I nodded, tucking my free hand in my lap.

“And would it be possible for me to call my family?”

The healer gave me an odd look. “Of course, but didn’t your sister…?”

I shook my head. “It’s complicated. Also, where are my things? And may I have something to write on and with?”

“I’d have to check, but they are probably in storage. And yes.”

I nodded thoughtfully. “Thank you.”

He gave me one more odd look, a farewell and left, coming back only to give me a piece of flimsi and a pen, and to make me promise to try to sleep before he came back in a few hours.

Once I was alone, I started on the list Bastila was talking about. I wrote a title, and got down to work, creating several sub-lists as I went.

_ Things That Have Happened _ _:_

  1. _The Sith (Force cult, not civilization) were not as extinct as we thought._
  2. _In finding this out, I was called by the Force to the middle of the Tatooine Desert, leaving a shipful of Nubians behind._
    * _They do not know were I am, probably assuming I’m dead – including Obi-Wan, unless he too has sort of uncovered our bond._
      * _On this note, Mai will be pissed when I don’t come back._
    * _I was found by an ex-slave, who manipulated me into getting her off-planet with her children._
      * _When I found this out, not only did I not freak out, but complimented my kidnapper on her ability to blackmail._
      * _And I met Jango Fett, who is definitely keeping a secret, but this is not important_
    * _This is probably going to cause all-out war between the Republic and some other faction. _
      * _This could be a civil war between two sides of the Republic._
      * _Or it could be a threat from beyond the known Galaxy._
  3. _My sister is not dead._
    * _She escaped capture, and was not killed, but instead of telling us, she ran off into the unknown with a man she barely met, got pregnant, got dumped by said man, and then joined an all-female pirate crew._
    * _I’m still pissed as her, even if I didn’t tell her outright._
    * _Also, now I have to avoid my family because I can’t look them in the face and lie to them – even lying through omission._
      * _This creates a problem, as I need to talk to Mai so that she knows I’m not dead, because I do not want to do the same thing as Shinna’s done._
  4. _Obi-Wan loves me, and I love him._
    * _We’re not supposed to talk about this. It’ll end badly, and we both know it._
    * _However, he was a bit against the Jedi that night…_
  5. _There is a person in my head._
    * _Linking to point 1, the warning came in the form of watching someone’s past and getting a new resident in my head, Bastila Shan._

_What I know about Bastila Shan:_

  1. _Her name is Bastila Shan_
  2. _She was a Jedi._
  3. _She knew the Sith Lord Revan very well._
  4. _She was part of the crew of the Ebon Hawk, which consisted of:_
  * _Mission Vao_
    * _A blue Twi’lek_
    * _Captain of the ship_
    * _15 Years Old when Bastila met her_
  * _Zaalbar_
    * _Mission’s friend_
    * _A Wookie_
  * _Jolee Bindo_
    * _An old human man_
    * _Apparently Force Se__nsitive – an old Jedi perhaps?_
  * _Canderous_
    * _A Mandalorian at the end of the Mandalorian Wars_
    * _Worked as a Bounty Hunter _
    * _Founded Arda, and joined the clans together at the end of the war_
  * _T3_
    * _An old Astromech on the Ebon Hawk_
  * _HK_
    * _A Hunter Killer Droid_
  * _Juhani_
    * _A species I don’t know from a planet called Taris_
    * _An orphan_
  * _Carth Onasi_
    * _Human male_
    * _Connections to the Republic_
    * _Has a son, Dustil_
    * _Not the best relationship?_
  * _Dustil Onasi_
    * _Human Male_
    * _Carth’s son_
    * _Syndor/Revan/Sita found him wherever he was with Rena and Griye_
  * _Rena _
  *     * _Human female_
    * _Found with Dustil_
  * _Griye_
    * _Human male_
    * _Found with Dustil_
  * _Darth Revan_
    * _Used to be the Jedi Sita Karo_
    * _Became Bastila’s ‘sister’, Syndor Shan_
    * _Was in a relationship that ended in a pregnancy, although it is unknown to whom and whether she was still in a relationship_
      * _Could be Alek, who she mentions_
    * _On another note – yes, I was right – the Shadow Sages _was_ formed by all three of them._
  * _She lived in the period after the Mandalorian Wars – I know this, because I know that Canderous Ordo reformed Mandalore in that time, and that the Shadow Sages were formed around this time._
  1. _I got injured._
  * _The injury itself was caused by a blade with Sith poison on it – or at the very least poison which has been created using a corrupted Force technique - which means that it’s a lot more difficult to heal._
    * _This means that there is a powerful and probably-not-friendly force on Tatooine_

I paused.

That was it.

Now, what to do with it.

I turned the flimsi over, and made a new heading.

_ Things I Need To Do: _

  1. _Get to Naboo_
  2. _Tell the conclave about my vision/the person in my head_
  3. _Possibly tell the Jedi Council_
  4. _Find out more about the the Ebon Hawk and it's crew_

It wasn’t a great plan as plans went, but it was a start.

I sighed, rereading the list, Bastila’s presence becoming slightly stronger at the back of my mind.

It was as good as it was going to get.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!  
New chapter for today, which is fun...small side note - I am going to revise the previous KOTOR chapter so that it is far more like the actual game, as I really don't like what I've done with it, so when I put up the next chapter, I will have edited that chapter.  
Anyway, enjoy!

I was allowed out the next day once I had been checked over, and that the healers had dragged a total of three oaths out of me that I wouldn’t attempt to use it while I was out; that I wouldn’t leave the Temple; and that I would come back withing the next few hours.

As well as this, my armour and blacks were still on Fett’s ship, as he had forgotten about them, and the dress I had been wearing had been a little bit destroyed by my blood and whatever it was that had come out of the wound, and had subsequently been burned.

To make up for my lack of any real clothes, I was gifted with a set of Padawan robes from the quartermaster. They were a rather drab brown, compared to the gold and blacks of what I usually wore – even on the rare occasions that I didn’t wear my armour – but I wasn’t going to complain as they were surprisingly comfortable, and they were, you know, _clothes_.

By this time, Bastila had made a reappearance in my conscious thoughts, and was being frustratingly reminiscent.

_Do you know, the last time I saw this place was when I was 11? I was then moved to the Dantooine conclave, and then I got mixed up with the Ebon Hawk. I never came back, although I did miss a lot of it. _

“Wonderful.” I muttered.

I wasn’t going anywhere in particular – I had mainly asked to leave because I knew that I would get bored sitting about a room for anything longer than a few hours, and I really didn’t want to get to that point – so it wasn’t too much of a surprise when Bastila recommended going to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, and I actually followed her instructions.

I knew that at some point I should probably find a way off planet, but for today I was quite content to listen to the little voice in my head and wander.

The Temple had a sort of quiet busyness to it, although, if I was honest, it felt a little too quiet. As if there should have been more people. It was the sort of feeling I got whenever I visited anywhere old and abandoned, as if there was life once, but it had long since gone.

I shivered. It wasn’t right to feel like that in a place that housed nearly 10,000 people.

It felt like a battlefield.

“What happened here?” I asked, stopping short, but Bastila was silent. “I have all day.” Which was perfectly true, it wasn’t like I had nothing else-

“Fuck. Bastila, where would the children be?”

Bastila, in a tight voice, directed me through the corridors towards what she had called the Crèche, purposefully ignoring me when I tried to ask her about the feeling earlier.

It was getting increasingly uncomfortable, so I was glad when Bastila tersely told me that I was there.

The door was fairly unassuming, but opened out into a large communal area with small groups of children dotted in the various nooks and crannies. It seemed as if there was a child of every species conceivable in the room, and I stopped slightly before spotting the reason I had come.

Shmi’s children were huddled in a corner, around something that I couldn’t see. Feeling somewhat out of place in the room – even if no-one else did – I skirted around the edge, coming to a stop only when I reached the small huddle. They were all there, standing out somewhat in their desert clothes against a few Jedi younglings who were also there.

Kitster (well, who I thought was Kitster) spotted me first, and nudged one of his elder sisters. “Miss Syndor’s here, Amee.”

Amee looked up from the holo she was looking at and grinned. “Miss Syndor! It’s so cool here – everyone’s really nice and look, they gave me this really cool holo with loads of pictures on it.” The girl excitedly me the small machine projecting pictures of what looked like a rose bush.

“It’s very cool.” I agreed, kneeling in their little group. “Maybe if you ask nicely, they might tell you where to get one when you leave with your mother.”

Amee nodded seriously. “I would like that.” She said, before flashing me another gap-toothed smile and going back to examining the plant holos.

I spent the next hour or so smiling until my jaw hurt and nodding along as various children came up to explain what they were doing or to introduce yet more children to me. Of the many Jedi younglings I was shown, I could ony remember two as I fled the room as a Jedi I was assuming was in charge of the children called for them all to come to lunch.

They were Ahsoka Tano, a young Togruta, and Gré Naberrie, who I could only assume was Padmé’s sister. They had found Beru and the three had taken to torment me as I attempted to tell one of the few Fairy Tales I knew off by heart, while extracting the more gruesome parts that were a part of all Mandalorian stories, whether they were for children or not.

Gré I remembered for obvious reasons. She was a rather quiet child, who Ahsoka spoke for when they were in conversation, but she when she did speak, it was with the soft resolution that I had noticed in her sister.

Ahsoka, on the other hand, was more of a mystery. The Force had clung to her oddly, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on how. I wished that Maiya was here – she was far better at knowing these sorts of things. But for whatever reason, this oddity had stuck with me and so had the girl it had come with.

I had sneaked a holopic of the three of them when no-one was looking to show Padmé.

Glad that I had done something somewhat productive with my time, and as my arm was beginning to turn from a dull ache to a pounding pain, I made my way back to the Medical room.

The next day, as I made my way through the Temple, to go Crèche to visit the children again, I passed the spot that had made Bastila go all uptight with me. I decided, as Bastila was keeping tight-lipped, that I would investigate it further. The feeling of dread grew as noises of fighting came closer.

I pushed away the instinct that told me to reach for a blaster that was not on my hip, swallowing the feeling of nakedness I had without my armour. The fighting was probably only sparring, and I would treat it as such unless I was given reason to believe otherwise.

From what I could see through the odd open door, I was indeed passing through the Training Halls of the Temple, but the feeling did not lead me there.

** _Syndor._ **

I stopped abruptly.

The voice that had called my name was not Bastila’s, and yet it was so similar to then that it gave me goose bumps.

I started walking again – albeit at a far slower pace – until I reached a large, open area inside the Temple, and I stopped once again. It was a cavernous room filled with plants of all species and large waterfalls and fountains glittering in the warm, artificial light.

_The room of a thousand fountains._ Bastila helpfully supplied.

“Does it really have a thousand fountains?” I asked, beginning to follow the feeling once again.

Bastila did the equivalent of a mental shrugged. _My Crèche clan and I tried to count them before I moved to Dantooine. We never got a definitive answer, but I think it was a figurative name._

“You were in a clan?”

_Not like on Mandalore. Crèche clans are who we grew up with until we became padawans or joined the corps. Although we did stay in rather patchy communication with each other._

I was going to ask about the Corps, when I felt a tugging in the depths of my stomach. Following the feeling went from purposefully seeking it out, to passively watching from inside my own body as I subconsciously did so, slowly fading from consciousness.

But I was more prepared this time, as I awoke in what was undoubtedly Coruscant, even if the cliffside I was on, without a skyscraper to be seen, looked nothing like what I had just left. I sat down on the edge of the cliff, with my legs dangling down, over the tumultuous seas, and looked out over the water.

The one memory of my father – the one memory which was more than just a feeling – was of him bringing me and my sister to the beach. He had taken me paddling in the sea, and had bandaged my leg when a particularly aggressive crab attacked.

Watching the waves now gave me an odd sense of melancholy.

“**_There is something beautiful about the ocean, don’t you think?_**”

I glanced beside me, to see a young woman, her blonde hair braided in a crown around her head, sitting beside me. She wasn’t smiling, just staring with a resolute hardness to her eyes.

“**_Wild. Dangerous. Untameable._**” She laughed mirthlessly. “**_Not that that matters._**”

The silence that followed was swallowed up by the crashing of the sea far below and the calling of birds circling high above.

“**_I was once like the sea. I was once wild, dangerous, untameable._**” She said those words with such scorn. “**_I was not a right fit for the Jedi, but I thought that I was. And then…well, then I found out that even the wild and the dangerous and the untameable can be broken and destroyed._**”

There was a grief in her words that weighed them down. “How did you find out?” I asked, despite myself.

“**_It might be easier to show you._**” She said eventually.


End file.
